


Love on the Brain

by curiousair



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, M/M, Minor Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Mutual Pining, Past Infidelity, Post-Break Up, Smut, Solo Artist Liam, Solo Artist Zayn, Top Liam, Top Zayn, mention of Harry/Zayn, newsflash assholes they both top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiousair/pseuds/curiousair
Summary: After doing this for ten years, making his parents proud is still his favorite thing about being a 'pop star.' He's had number one albums, traveled the world, won awards, bought houses for his parents and cars for his sisters, and donated millions of dollars to charities. The life he's had so far is everything he's wanted and more.Falling in love with the 'hottest new up and coming singer' and getting cheated on was definitely not on his list of goals.Or, the one where Liam gets cheated on and writes an album about it, Zayn is a shithead, and they argue a lot because they're still not over it (or each other).





	Love on the Brain

**Author's Note:**

> lemme start by saying I never meant to post this but I finished it recently for a friend. I legit started this in november 2015, before zayn even released his album and before liam was a dad, so here yall go lmao  
> (this is a work of fiction, blah blah, i don't own the likeness of these guys okayy)  
> also there are typos in this probably  
> see notes at end for a cute lil playlist

 

It's hard not to think about Zayn when his new single- and entire album- is about their breakup. 

Liam calls his parents when he finds out the single debuted at number one. It's probably nothing special after all these years and all his other number one singles, but they celebrate with him over the phone like they always do. They tell him they're proud and are sickeningly sweet about the whole ‘being terribly heartbroken’ thing. “This is good for you, hun, you needed to vent,” his mum reminds him for the hundredth time.

After doing this for ten years, making his parents proud is still his favorite thing about being a 'pop star.' He's had number one albums, traveled the world, won awards, bought houses for his parents and cars for his sisters, and donated millions of dollars to charities. The life he's had so far is everything he's wanted and more.

Falling in love with the 'hottest new up and coming singer' and getting cheated on was definitely not on his list of goals.

He and Zayn met last February at a London Fashion Week after party– he'd heard about him before, on Twitter, but he'd never seen him, not even a picture. When an intimidatingly handsome guy in an Armani suit and tattoos on his hands sidled up next to Liam at the bar and introduced himself, Liam was struck speechless. Thinking back on it, it was probably the drinks but it felt like a dream. Liam figures they were smitten at first sight, since his face was burning like mad the entire time they talked and Zayn leaned in close to talk to him over the music. They ended up slipping out together, going outside and finding a spot away from everyone to smoke.

“ _I only have one, sorry,” Zayn says, putting the cigarette between his lips._

_ Liam watches him light it and take the first puff. “That's okay. Been trying to quit anyway.” _

“ _We can share this one,” Zayn suggests. “I mean, if you're desperate.”_

“ _I'm not desperate,” Liam smiles. “But I wouldn't mind. Do you?”_

“ _No. You're cute, so,” Zayn shrugs and hands Liam the cigarette._

_ Liam takes a drag, hoping his cheeks aren't as red as they feel. “Thanks.” _

_ It's quiet around them, except for the faint sound of the music from inside and the sound of the fountain running next to them. _

“ _I can't believe we've never met before,” Zayn says in that quiet, half mumble that Liam already loves. ”Like, we know all the same people.”_

“ _Maybe we keep missing each other by a few seconds, like you're leaving just as I'm showing up,” Liam suggests, shoving his free hand into his pocket. He's shaking, and it's not from the cold.._

“ _ So, what's this then?” Zayn asks, plucking the cigarette from Liam's fingers. “Fate?” _

“ _Could be.”_

When Zayn asked to kiss him, Liam could see right through him. He squared his shoulders, bit his lip and looked up from under his eyelashes like some kind of bloody model but Liam could tell he was nervous. He crumbled as soon as Liam laughed and asked for a date first. Zayn said something along the lines of  _ “Yeah, but don't get upset when you catch me staring at your lips all night.”  _ They went to dinner and Zayn kissed him the second they left the restaurant, still tasting like the tiramisu they shared. Liam thinks about it all the time. It was just the beginning of what he thought could be his fairytale ending.

They moved in together after six months of trips, parties, and extravagant private dates. Five months later, they celebrated Zayn's debut album release with a trip to Italy. Liam sat up in bed while Zayn slept, looking at the moon through the open window, and thought about proposing to him.

They were in love. No doubt about it. Which made it that much more confusing when a month shy of their one year anniversary, Liam opened up Twitter and saw blurry pictures of Zayn kissing someone in the VIP section of a club in LA. Zayn was in America doing a promotional tour for his album and apparently Harry Styles, 'Britain's Indie Sweetheart,' (according to Rolling Stone) just happened to be in the area. Liam scrolled through dozens of paparazzi pictures, ones of them leaving together, getting in a car, and pictures of Zayn leaving an apartment complex in Santa Monica the next morning.

It was the biggest tabloid story of the year and for once, nothing about it was fabricated. Harry was practically married to producer/songwriter Louis Tomlinson at the time, after a tumultuous three year, on and off relationship. Louis had left his long time girlfriend for Harry and ended up cheating on him with an entirely different girl two months in, which led to Harry throwing all of Louis clothes over the balcony and into the pool. They got back together weeks later only to break up again because Harry wanted to 'focus on his career,' which only meant lots of pap shots of him with actresses and high fashion models. Later that year, they got together yet again, Harry fired everyone in his band, Louis signed him to his new record label, and they went on holiday in New Zealand.

Last year, Liam was pulled into their real life soap opera when Zayn cheated on him with Harry Fucking Styles, out of all people.

Often Liam wonders if it would have hurt any less if Zayn cheated with someone else, some D-list celebrity or some random model. He wonders, but he knows it would have ended up the same. Liam thought Zayn was the love of his life– he felt all the things his dad told him he would feel when he fell in love. There's a distinct moment in his mind when everything fell into place and he was sure that he'd found the one. (Zayn showed up at his house at five in the morning, after their third date, claiming he couldn't sleep. They brought a pile of blankets to the couch and stayed up until noon, sharing stories from their childhood). Liam was  _ so fucking sure _ . Fate had other plans for him.

After spending longer than he'd like to admit looking at the pictures, he got out of bed and packed up Zayn's stuff the best he could and put it all out of the doorstep. It was one of those moments where you're so livid you're almost calm. He had tunnel vision, and all he could visualize about was getting Zayn Malik the fuck out of his life.

It took two days for Zayn to call. Liam didn't answer, so Zayn kept calling. He called over and over for a week straight and when it was clear that Liam didn't want to talk, he decided it'd be a good idea to fly back home, even though he still had a month of tour dates left.

Liam couldn't even look him in the eye. It was too soon to see him– an entire decade could go by and it would still feel like salt in a wound. Liam stood in the doorway, watching him with fire in his lungs.

“ _ It wasn't–,” _

“ _ It's wasn't what?! I'm not that fucking stupid, Zayn!” Liam snaps and, god, he's never felt so mean. But, he's hurting. His chest has been aching for days. He hasn't cried but there's a lump in his throat that won't go away. He feels it there when he speaks again, his voice trembling. “I don't want to hear whatever you planned out. It's all shit and we both know it.” _

_ Zayn shifts his weight from one foot to the other, chewing his lower lip to bits. “Liam, we can talk about this. We have to –,” _

“ _ No, we don't. There's nothing to talk about,” Liam says, even though he has a million and one questions and somewhere, deep down, he already wants to forgive him. “It's over.” _

He doesn't remember everything they said to each other but he remembers forcing himself not to cry and telling Zayn he never wanted to see him again. He remembers scolding himself, whispering fiercely,  _ “I'm so fucking stupid. How did I let this happen to me? God, I'm so fucking stupid to think that I could ever have something so good.” _ He cursed his high expectations and idealist views on romance and holed himself up in his house for two more days.

When the news broke that Zayn was back in town, Liam had his PR team released an official statement on the breakup and asked for privacy.

And he knows it was too fast, but three weeks later he threw himself into a relationship with Sophia even though he knew it wouldn't last. It was a month of lackluster romance, walking on the beach hand-in-hand, kissing by the Eiffel Tower, and showing her off on red carpets. Liam wasn't even thinking about how Zayn would react until he got a text from him in the middle of night. 'Glad you're happy,' it said, with a little passive aggressive smiley at the end. It was the first time Zayn tried to contact him after the official break-up and, for some reason, it made Liam see red. Like, fuck Zayn for thinking he could act like the victim when he clearly wasn't. Liam changed his number the next day, but he still couldn't shake the tension.

So, he took to Twitter. Today, he recognizes it as a mistake. But at the time he was so blinded by anger that it only made sense to tweet ' _ some people just can't move on _ ,' with his own little passive aggressive smiley at the end.

The thing is, Liam wasn't happy with Sophia. She was beautiful and sweet, but he always knew that it wasn’t enough. There was very little connection and really, he knew that from the get go. At the time,  _ he _ hadn't even moved on from everything that happened. To be honest, he still hasn't. Every time he goes to bed, his chest is heavy with emptiness and his stomach is in knots. It's still fresh to him. It still hurts. And what hurts the most is that he still loves him– it's been seven months and through all the anger and resentment, Liam hasn't stopped loving him for a second.

\- - -

Zayn is sitting in the airport when he sees a still from Liam's new music video.

A fan sent him a link and Zayn could never really say no when it came to Liam so he connects his headphones and presses play.

The song is called 'Goodnight' and Zayn tries hard to listen to the lyrics but all he can focus on his how Liam looks. In one shot, he's sitting on the edge of a bed, shirtless, fit as fuck, with tears in his eyes and in the next, he's throwing a picture frame against the wall and wailing about how he wasn't enough.

Zayn stops it halfway through a rips the headphones out of his ears.

“Motherfucker,” he mumbles, opening up Twitter.

ZaynMalik:  _ @LiamPayne nice video x _

He only feels accomplished for a little while. Then he's sitting on the plane reading hate messages from all of Liam's angry teenaged fans.

It isn't until eight hours later, when the plane is getting ready to land, that Zayn's phone buzzes with the response he was waiting for.

LiamPayne:  _ @ZaynMalik thanks, it wouldn't have happened without you man :) _

Not even a month after they broke up, Zayn saw pictures of Liam with a girl he'd never seen before on a beach in the Bahamas. So, needless to say, he was (and still is) a little bit bitter.

It irritates him that Liam has the privilege of wearing his heart on his fucking sleeve and Zayn is seen as some heartless piece of shit because he bottles almost everything in. It irritates him that even though Liam was the victim in everything that happened, people so easily see Zayn as a villain because of it. Zayn wishes he could tell people why he did it, but he can't explain it and he won't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him stumble over his words. So, he stays quiet. If that makes him look like a standoffish prick, then so be it.

Zayn can't say he's been completely innocent though– his mum called him the first time she saw a picture of him and a certain male model kissing in the backseat of a car. After the sixth or seventh time, she stopped being surprised. He went a bit wild, partying, hooking up, trying to fill the empty spaces in his life with anything he could. The people he hooked up with knew he wasn't looking for romance and he's never rude or mean, but he was still pinned with the 'heart breaker' reputation.

When interviewers ask him to describe himself, he uses words like 'introverted,' 'quiet,' and 'laid-back,' but no matter what, he's always portrayed as some sort of cocky, pretentious, 'bad boy.' He used to try so hard to seem cool, over-thinking everything he did and said. Then, he was famous and didn't have to try anymore because people started making their own assumptions about him. Zayn has tons of fake friends, yes-men, and potential hook-ups around him, swearing he's  _ cool, dark, and mysterious _ but it doesn't compare to real, unbiased companionship.

None of them compare to Liam.

_ "I love you,” Liam whispers into the hot skin of Zayn's neck. His deep voice vibrates against Zayn's throat and it sends a shiver down his spine. “So much.” _

“ _ I love you too,” Zayn says. He lets the rush of saying it for the first time wash over him, let's it heat up his skin even more. “Even though you were in a boy band and had ugly hair before we met.” _

Of course, Zayn loved Liam. There were never any doubts about it– even as he fell into bed with someone else. But– it's complicated. Love and relationships are complicated and become even more so when you mix in the rush of fame, too much alcohol, temptation, and lust. It's complicated when you can't seem to shake that last bit of low self esteem. It's complicated when you're scared shitless of fucking everything up, so you go and do that exact thing you know you shouldn't do because you've somehow convinced yourself that True Love was too good to be true anyway.

So, this is all Zayn's fault, really. There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't think about it, the hurt and disappointment in Liam's eyes and the feeling of helplessness and guilt that overcame him. The same feelings he masks with a feigned bad attitude and that air of aloofness that everyone, including his fake friends, expect from him.

Through it all, he's alone. Zayn has never hated the idea of solitude, but feeling lonely cuts him to the bone.

\- - -

Liam spots the magazine as soon as he sits down. His first reaction is annoyance, since of course it was strategically placed there, probably by some poor intern who was only doing their job. It's the July issue of Rolling Stone, which means it's probably not on the shelves yet– which means whoever put it there went out of their way to do so.

“'Bradford Bad Boy,'” Liam reads, eying the cover. Zayn's shirtless, in black and white, pouting and looking somewhere off to the side. “Fucking idiot.” Liam knows that Zayn probably didn't choose the headline, but still... he's a fucking idiot and Liam is physically sick of seeing his face and name everywhere.

Liam needs to talk to Sarah about not booking him interviews where they both know that every other question is going to be about Zayn.

Ignoring the queasy feeling and letting his curiosity and infatuation win over, Liam picks up the magazine and thumbs to the article, knowing that his name is going to pop up somewhere. Because he loves punishing himself, apparently.

The opening paragraph names them as 'rivals in the industry, musically and personally.' Liam rolls his eyes, but keeps reading. “'While former boybander Liam Payne has a more soul and R&B influenced pop vibe, Zayn Malik takes inspiration from modern hip hop and late 90s' R&B. The exes and their rocky relationship may be the topic of trashy tabloid mags, but their music shouldn't be left out of the conversation.'”

Liam takes a sip of the over-sweetened coffee provided for him as he reads about the album Zayn's working on and how Louis Tomlinson has 'no hard feelings' towards Zayn (and how they're actually going out for lunch next weekend.) When the article not-so-subtly links Zayn to a Victoria's Secret model, Liam stops reading.

The longer he sits there, trying to force himself not to think about Zayn dating someone else, the antsier he gets. He needs a fucking cigarette and a shot of whiskey, but here comes the interviewer practically running up to greet him. She introduces herself with an enthusiastic hug, “Hi, I'm Christine! It's great to finally meet you! I used to listen to you when you were in your group! I was such a super fan.” She's holding a handful of note cards and Liam can only imagine what crazy, personal questions the 'fans' came up with.

“So, what do you think about people saying there's a rivalry between you and Zayn?” she asks, once they're settled on the couch and after she's introduced herself and Liam to the camera.

It's the second question out of her mouth, right after 'how are you?' and now, Liam regrets telling her he's doing fine. Because he's not. He hasn't been fine in a while.

“Well,” Liam tries to smile, bringing the mic up to his lips. “I think my music is better than his, so I don't suppose there's a real rivalry. We have a history, but there's no rivalry.” The moment the words leave his mouth, he wishes he could go back in time and give some generic, passive answer. But he's seeing red again, thinking back on those pictures and how Zayn waited two days to call. And he'd rather seem mean than sad.

The interviewer gives him a smile that looks downright painful, and goes on to ask about his new music video and upcoming album.

“Based on the title and some of the tracks I've been able to preview. I'm assuming a lot of the album is influenced by your past relationships. Are you willing to go on record and say who in particular most of the songs are about?” She's grins, wide and almost evil looking. “I think I have an idea.”

Liam gives forced laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Um, well, I'm sure most people know. I'm not exactly a closed book. But I'd like to leave some mystery around it, you know? I don't want to go on and say well this song is about this and that and take away what that song might mean for someone else. But to answer part of your question... I went through a pretty bad semi-public break up and songwriting helped me through it a bit.”

She nods, seeming pleased with the answer, and presses on with her next question. “What do you think Zayn will think of the album?”

Liam shrugs, unable to keep his pettiness at bay. “I hope he likes it.”

The next day, hours after the interview is posted, his phone buzzes with a Twitter notification.

ZaynMailk:  _ @LiamPayne cant keep my name out of your mouth, huh ? _

Liam actually laughs out loud at that, despite the prickly feeling it gives him.

LiamPayne:  _ @ZaynMalik not my fault people keep asking me about u. _

Zayn's reply is instantaneous, making Liam's heart jump up into his throat.

ZaynMalik: _@LiamPayne_ _seems like_ _you wrote a whole album about me babe_

LiamPayne: _@ZaynMalik_ _and u should thank me. honestly the only reason why ur still relevant is because of our past._

Which, actually, isn't true at all. Zayn hasn't been around for half as long as Liam has and he has just as many fans. Zayn's music is playing everywhere Liam goes, on every radio station and at every fucking club. But he's gotta hit him where it hurts, right?

ZaynMalik:  _ @LiamPayne I could say the same for you tho. I'm not the one that's a washed up former boybander :) _

Liam is nearly twenty six fucking years old and he knows he shouldn't be stooping to Zayn's level by talking shit on Twitter, but–

LiamPayne:  _ @ZaynMalik fuck you :) :) :) _

This is the last time, he tells himself, as he posts the tweet. Yeah, he's still hurt and bitter and still so stupidly in love with Zayn despite what he did that it makes him angry, but it's time for this shit to stop. So, when Zayn responds with 'fuck you too' and  _ four _ smiley emojis, Liam drops his phone onto his bedside table and leaves it alone for the rest of the day.

\- - -

The rivalry talk sure does get them a lot of publicity. Their labels and managers don't even have to try anymore and neither do the 'reporters' because their fucked up story sort of writes itself.

Zayn knew months in advance that he was going to be added to the KISS FM Beach Party line-up in Miami, so he knew he'd be seeing Liam. On the plane ride over he convinced himself that if they see each other, he was ready for anything. Ready for an argument and tears and apologies. But now that he's actually here, chatting with one of the coordinators, he knows he isn't ready for anything at all. It feels like he swallowed a brick and he hasn't even fucking seen him yet. God, he's pathetic.

He's being escorted to his trailer when he hears someone call Liam's name. The rational part of his brain tells him to keep walking, but the less rational, 'I miss him so much and I just want to see him for a second' part of his brain makes him stop in his tracks and look for Liam's face. When Zayn sees him, it's like the first time.  _ Magnetic _ and  _ cosmic _ all that mushy shit he wrote in his journal that first night.

“Shit.”

Liam looks good. Like, unfairly good. He looks tan, refreshed, and  _ happy.  _ His hair is cut short again, cropped close to his head, and he's looks bigger than Zayn remembers, his shoulders and biceps stretching his shirt dangerously. It's hot as hell in Miami, but he's wearing one of those tight white henley shirts with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Zayn always loved how easily Liam sweated through those during performances and how he'd do the rest of the show shirtless, pretending not to be the show-off that he is. He's wearing black boots and a red flannel around his waist the way he used to when he was in that stupid fucking boy band. Still, Zayn thinks he looks better than ever. Or, maybe it's just been too long. He's standing under a merch tent, laughing with someone else and Zayn's chest tightens at the observation. Yet, he keeps staring. All over again, Liam's smile draws him in and he can't look away.

Liam must sense him there, because he turns his head and immediately finds Zayn in the small crowd. His smile drops from his face, but he doesn't look away. There's tension, thick and unmistakable, but Zayn feels it fade away under Liam's gaze. His eyes were always Zayn's weakness. A deep, honest, brown, always easy to read. But he rubs a hand over his nearly buzzed head, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and looks away before Zayn can get a good look.

It takes less than a second for Zayn to admit to himself that he still  _ really fucking want _ s _ him.  _ It's crazy, like, what Liam does to him without even trying. The bass in his voice, the easy way he moves, his goofy laugh. The way he'd lose his breath when they kissed... it's unfair that this is where they are now. It's unfair that they're not pressed against each other at all times. He wants Liam's strong hands around his throat and pulling at his hair, wants him biting at the sensitive skin stretched over his collarbones. Zayn's not opposed to belated angry breakup sex and nothing more. He's not ready for more– not ready to see Liam cry.

Later that day, instead of watching Liam's set, Zayn hotboxes his trailer and silently reminds himself that it's his fault they're in this mess.

-

The after party is at an actual mansion. It's packed, like a college house party on steroids, filled with security guards, desperate wannabes A-listers, and actual A-listers congregating in their cozy, roped off VIP area. Zayn could probably find his name somewhere on that list, but instead he floats around alone with a drink in his hand.

The bartenders are definitely over-pouring, Zayn decides as he downs his second cocktail. He's buzzed, looking around for a restroom when he spots a group of girls staring at him wide-eyed. He gives them a wave, turns around, and goes the opposite direction. He finds himself back at the bar so he takes another shot out of sheer boredom.

Around midnight, he's standing against a wall and thinking about leaving when he sees him. He's with Niall, who Zayn hasn't seen in awhile. Though he does have a vague memory of Niall drunkenly berating him over the phone last year when shit hit the fan.

Again, Liam finds Zayn in the crowd in a matter of seconds. It makes Zayn’s entire fucking body go warm. They watch each other for a long minute, stuck in place. Their connection is palpable, wrapping around their bones and anchoring them to each other.

Zayn can't forget the night they met. He remembers not being able to look or turn away, even for a second. He remembers doubting everything that came out of his mouth, hoping Liam thought his awkwardness was more endearing than off-putting. He remembers feeling lighter than air when Liam touched him, even though it was just brush of fingertips on his elbow. He remembers their first date, kissing him that first time, thinking he could do that every day of his damn life and be happy.

Slowly, Liam makes his way through the crowd and stops in front of Zayn. His eyes are glassy, lips wet, and he smells like whiskey and six different perfumes. Before Zayn can come up with anything to say, the DJ starts spinning a Miguel song. It takes Zayn about ten seconds to remember that it was one of Liam’s favorites.

Liam is truly looking at Zayn like he's ready to eat him alive, and it should be a little concerning. But, it's not. It's just how Liam gets when he’s drinking. Aggressively and hilariously sexy. He’s biting his lip in more of a trying-to-be-sexy way than a nervous way. Which just isn’t fair and doesn’t make any fucking sense because Liam exudes sexuality without trying. Zayn takes a sip from his drink and tries not to look too panicked as Liam comes closer and closer. 

They don’t even speak to each other. Liam just presses his body against Zayn’s, gripping his hip and dragging a hand up his side. Their eyes are locked and even if Zayn could come up with anything to say, he wouldn’t want to ruin this moment. 

Historically, Liam also gets handsy when he's drunk. If you get enough liquor in him, he starts thinking he's in Magic Mike. It's another one of those things Zayn never forgot about him, another useless bit of information he has no reason to keep. Zayn isn't a good dancer and never has been, though Liam always insisted, but he likes dancing enough when it's with Liam.

So, he holds Liam close, sliding his hand up his back as Liam grinds against him and presses him into the wall. He tangles his fingers in Zayn’s hair, and squeezes his hip and Zayn can feel it every fiber of his being. Every muscle and nerve is screaming at him to try and make this last forever. The hairs on his body are standing on end - the music fades into the background and everything is Liam, Liam, Liam. His strong hands, his hips, his broad shoulders, the alcohol on his breath and glimmer in his eyes. Zayn barely moves against Liam but he holds on for dear life as Liam drops his head to Zayn’s shoulder, ghosting his lips of the shell of Zayn’s ear. 

When Liam looks up, eyes clouded with lust,  Zayn can’t help the words that fall out of his mouth.

“You missed me, baby?” 

All they have to do is close the inch of space between them and they’d be kissing. That’s all it would take. Zayn wouldn’t say no. 

Liam steps back, letting his hand linger on Zayn’s chest. He's dazed, likes he's just waking up. 

“I missed you, but not that much.”

\- - -

Liam gets a call from his publicist first thing in the morning. 

“Wanna tell me what's going on?”

Liam needs water and about three tylenol. More annoying than the hangover is the shame and regret sinking into his bones. He's got three texts from Niall and one from his mother, and his twitter mentions are a war zone all because someone got a few pictures of Zayn and Liam that look a little too friendly. This time the rumors about them getting back together actually have ‘proof.’

“We danced. We didn't even talk. It didn't mean anything. Honestly.” 

“Hmm. Okay, that's what we'll go with,” she says. He can hear her typing in the background. “But, wanna let me know what really happened? Off the record.” 

“The story is the same on and off the record. Nothing happened.” Liam groans as he sits up and throws the blankets off the bed. “We didn't go home together, we didn't kiss. We just danced. That's it.”

There’s a part of him, however small, that wishes they did more. He knows that he would regret it immediately, but the desire is still there. Most of last night is fuzzy, but he can’t stop thinking about Zayn calling him baby...

_ Zayn crowds him against the bathroom counter, holding him still by the waist. He smells like aftershave and mouthwash and looks like a goddamn dream. Half naked, perfect brown skin on display _

“ _ You're my baby?” _

_ Liam's face heats up immediately. He can't help that he turns to a pile of mush every time Zayn calls him baby. Zayn definitely gets off on it, if his hard on is anything to go by. It's nine in the morning; Liam woke Zayn up three hours ago to have sex before his morning run and this must be Zayn's form of payback. _

“ _Yeah,” Liam answers, smoothing his hands over the flat of Zayn's bare back._

_ Zayn kisses along Liam's jaw line. “Say it then.” _

_ Liam shivers, drunk on Zayn's voice. “I'm your baby.” _

“ _Forever?”_

“ _Forever.”_

“ _Good.” Zayn pulls back, thumbs brushing Liam's cheeks now. “Wanna fuck you.”_

_ Liam laughs, more out of nervousness than anything else. Zayn has that talent, taking Liam by surprise and making it feel like it's his first time every time. “Right here?” _

“ _Yeah, why not?” Zayn grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “I'll make it worth your while, baby.”_

“ _God, you're such a dork.” Liam gives him a playful shove and tries to turn away. “Why are we together again?”_

_ Zayn doesn't relent. In fact, he presses himself close again, slipping one hand into Liam's sweatpants to grip his hardening dick. “Because I can make you come really hard.” _

_ It doesn't take much more convincing to get Liam bent over the sink, fogging up the mirror with his labored breath, trying not to swear too much while Zayn fucks into him hard enough to leave him speechless. Zayn bites down on Liam's shoulder when he comes, suddenly remembering to stroke him through his orgasm as well, and whispers a few dozen 'I love you's.’ _

But, he can't. And he won't. He shakes the memory away and climbs out of bed, reminding himself not to drink too much next time he's out. 

-

Liam always wants to do something low key for his birthday. Yet, every year, he always ends up throwing what is essentially an end-of-summer party at whatever club he can rent out last minute. 

This year, it’s in West Hollywood and Liam sets out to get so drunk that he doesn't give a shit about the paparazzi waiting outside to take pictures of him and his famous friends. 

He's laughing and dancing with someone cute and having a spectacular time until he sees Zayn Malik sitting at the bar, whispering into Niall's ear. Despite the anger boiling inside him, Liam notices that Zayn looks fantastic in his ripped black jeans, leather jacket, a new trendy haircut. He’s drunk too, Liam can tell by the way he’s grinning and leaning into Niall’s personal space.

Niall is probably about six drinks in already, so even he is weak against Zayn's advances. Liam swears that as Zayn takes a drink, he looks over Niall’s shoulder and locks eyes with Liam.

_ What the fuck? _

Zayn smirks like he doesn't give a fuck and goes from angry to livid. First off, he knows Niall is straight. Second, he's only doing this because he knows Liam will find out about it. And third, who the fuck invited him anyway? There are plenty of other places to go on a Friday night in LA, but of course Zayn had to go out of his way to show up to Liam’s fucking birthday party. Liam shouldn’t be surprised-- it isn’t like Zayn has tried to hide how petty he can be.

Liam pulls a member of the security team aside and points Zayn out to them. Zayn catches on immediately, sliding out of his seat before security even gets to him. He smiles and blows Liam a kiss, then turns on his heel and makes a bee-line towards the side exit with a drink still in his hand. Liam grits his teeth and downs the rest of his gin and tonic. Then he takes a deep breath and follows Zayn out because his head is swimming with too many thoughts, blurred by alcohol, and it's his birthday, so he has a right to act like an ass if he wants to.

Zayn is waiting near the door, leaning against the dirty brick wall like he knew Liam would follow. 

Liam cuts to the chase. “Who even invited you?” 

Zayn has a smug look on his face, looking far too comfortable considering the conversation that's brewing up. “We know all the same people.” 

“That doesn’t mean you were invited,” Liam spits. 

“Well,” Zayn just shrugs, “the invite said people could bring a plus one. You didn't specify who people could and could not bring.”

“You should fucking know better!” Liam snaps then, too intoxicated and riled up to care. He can’t fucking believe this. “The fucking nerve of you, Zayn. To show up to my birthday party just to flirt with people in front of me? What the fuck is  _ wrong _ with you?” 

Zayn cocks an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?” 

“ _ What _ ?” 

“That I was flirting with other people.”

“Oh god,  _ shut up _ . Get over yourself.” Liam wants to scream, but he minds himself. There are paps at the end of the alley about a hundred feet away, blocked off by more security, documenting this entire ordeal. 

Zayn doesn’t care, because he doesn’t care about anything. He just laughs and shrugs his shoulders like this is no big deal.

“You love this shit, don't you?” Liam shakes his head, still bewildered after all this time. Of course Zayn loves this. He is the ‘Bradford Bad Boy’ after all. “You're just an attention whore. Everyone is gonna be talking and writing about this and you're gonna eat it up. You love negative press.” 

“Okay,” Zayn says, easy as anything, “and you're just a big whiny baby that can't let go of the past.” 

Liam opens his mouth to respond before he even has a proper response. His face is on fire and his trembling fingers curl into fists. Zayn just smirks at him, unwavering. 

"You gonna hit me or something?”

“I would never do that and you know it,” Liam snaps. He crosses his arms over his chest, then decides it looks stupid so he drops them back to his sides.

A grin spreads across Zayn’s face now, slow and devilish. “Still love me?” 

When Liam pauses for a second too long, Zayn's smile fades. Liam just stands there for a minute, studying Zayn's expression. The longer he looks, the more he can see the cracks in Zayn's facade. The way Zayn goes still and his gaze doesn't waver tells Liam all he needs to know. There's more to this than either of them are willing to admit. But, whether the question was half genuine or not, Liam is annoyed that he'd even ask. 

“Fuck you,” he says. He wants to spit the words at their feet, but they come out weak and broken instead. He shuts his mouth, deciding that it's not at all the time to reveal that he kept every single picture he ever took of Zayn. It's not the time to talk about how he still goes to bed wondering if Zayn thinks of him too. Liam just waits. For Zayn to do or say something to make this better. There’s something in his eyes, a flicker of remorse-- maybe. It’s a longshot, but Liam sometimes finds a sliver of hope buried under all the resentment. 

Zayn scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he didn't start this entire fucking thing. He falls back into his role easily. “It was a simple question.” 

Just like that, the hope is gone. Liam’s shoulders sag and his voice comes out in a desperate whisper. “Why are you doing this to me?” 

Zayn sighs and turns himself away, not meeting Liam's eye. “I don’t know. I'm a piece a shit?” he says. “That’s what you tell everyone right? That's what everyone thinks about me because of what I did. I'm a cheater, I'm a bad person, all that shit, right?”

Despite his best efforts, tears spring up in Liam's eyes. “You-- I don’t wanna talk about this here.” He can hardly believe they're talking at all. He can hardly believe that Zayn's in front of him again and they're exchanging words and neither of them are backing down. Too stubborn and headstrong for their own good. 

“You never wanted to talk about it,” Zayn replies, matter-of-fact. 

Liam doesn't want to  _ think _ about it, much less talk. He gets questioned every single day and it takes every ounce of energy and strength in him not to cry. He's cried enough over it and he doesn't want to waste any tears almost a year later. It takes an immense amount of energy to not sit around, wondering why Zayn did it, if it was easy for him, and if Liam really meant that little to him. It's terrifying to think that maybe he didn't know Zayn at all, that the cocky, smirking person in front of him is the person he met last year and fell in love with. 

“Why didn't you want to talk about it?” Zayn asks, bringing his drink to his lips. He's quiet, staring off into the distance, like he's talking to himself. “We could've--,” 

And just like that, the blinding anger is back and the tears are gone. They could have done  _ what _ ?  _ Talked it out?  _ That's not how this works. That’s not how any of this works. “What were you expecting, Zayn? Did you want me to sit on the other side of the world and listen to you apologize when I knew you didn't feel guilty for what you did?”

Zayn finally looks at him again, accusatory. Anger flashes in his eyes and behind that, Liam catches a hint of pain. He's louder than Liam has ever heard him, his voice rough. “You can't tell me how I felt.” 

“You weren't sorry,” Liam tells him, “you were just sorry you got caught.” 

Without a second of hesitation, Zayn splashes his drink in Liam’s face. Liam freezes, mostly out of shock. He licks his lips, tasting rum, and doesn’t say a word. How did they come to this? 

This is probably it then. Zayn will walk away and Liam will force himself to bury all the feelings he still has. 

Zayn doesn’t relent or walk away--  he shoves Liam hard in the chest and growls, “Fucking do something about it then.” 

Liam stumbles back a few steps, a mix of shock and alcohol affecting his balance. He steadies himself and wipes at his face with the back of his sleeve. “What do you want, Zayn?” he asks, his voice softening. “Do you want to argue and fight? Because that’s not what I want.”

“No, that’s not--,” 

“Then what is it?” 

Zayn drags his hands through his hair, exasperated. “I just want you to fight for me, not with me, you know?” He takes a shaky breath and flinches back at his own words. “Fuck.”

“You want me to fight for you when you cheated on me? That doesn’t make any fucking sense, especially because you never fought for me after we broke up,” Liam rambles. “After that first time, when you showed up at my house, you never tried again. You just turned into a shithead because I wouldn’t forgive you immediately,” He isn’t even sure if he wanted Zayn to keep trying after that first time, to be honest. He distinctly remembers saying he never wanted to see him again, which might have been the truth at the time.

“I -,” Zayn clamps his mouth shut, his face set in a frown.

“If you want me back,” Liam continues, slow and pained, “just fucking say so. Because this- what we’re doing right now- isn’t working.” He leaves it at that, let’s it hang in the air between them untouched. This is him throwing caution to the wind, with just a little liquid courage. It would be a true miracle if he got a decent response from it.

Zayn backs up, turns around, and stalks right through the paparazzi without looking back once. The paps swarm him, but he pushes himself through to the other side until Liam can’t see him anymore.

As Liam stands there, stunned in the wake of their storm, he has his dad’s voice in the back of his mind.  _ “Sometimes, love is fierce.” _

\- - -

Zayn needs better friends. Not one of them has told him to man the fuck up and apologize. They bring up Liam only to make jokes at his expense, as if he’s the shithead in this situation. Like the coward Zayn is, he just laughs along and drinks and smokes more. He talks more shit and tries to convince himself he’s ‘over it.’ He tweets and crashes parties and makes sly remarks about Liam in interviews instead of facing the facts. The truth is, he’s terrified. This ‘bad boy’ persona is a defense mechanism, a cry for help, and a panic response all in one. 

It’s a relief and also a wake up call when he goes home at the end of the night. The good thing about living alone is that he can take a deep breath, throw on a pair of sweatpants, and step out of his shell. The bad thing is that every time he finds himself drunkenly rummaging through his half empty fridge or aimlessly pacing through his house, he’s reminded that Liam isn’t by his side.

He saw the low quality pap pictures and videos from Liam’s birthday and he’s never been more embarrassed of anything in his entire life. (‘ _ Exclusive story: Ex lovers get into a row at LA nightclub _ .’) Nothing he says ever comes out right, and it's tenfold with Liam. He's gotta be drunk just to face him- which only makes everything he says even worse. Maybe he’s screwed either way. 

He turns on the tv in the living room and lights a blunt, figuring he’ll probably pass out on the couch for the night. Halfway through a nature documentary, he looks over and sees August’s issue of Attitude sitting on the end table. He impulsively bought it weeks ago, when he saw Liam’s smiling face on the cover and it’s been sitting in the same spot since then, unopened until now.

Liam has a six page spread of the same old butch, jock aesthetic that he’s been sticking to for about a decade. Zayn can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it though. It works and Liam looks good, as always. There are millions of people in the world, just like Zayn, who have lusted after Liam at some point. Just like his fans, Zayn has closed his eyes and imagined Liam kissing, sucking, and fucking him. Zayn is just lucky enough to have experienced it in person. Too bad he blew every single chance of experiencing it again.

What fucks Zayn up is that no one touches him like Liam did. Dozens of people have touched him, with rushed or too rough or nervous hands. Liam’s touch was perfect, every single time. He misses Liam’s hands. He misses the calloused fingertips and warm palms… he misses Liam’s lips and his tongue too, misses the way he never was shy or ashamed to try anything in bed-

“ _ Feels so fucking good, babe.” Zayn's voice cracks in his throat but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything else when Liam is between his legs. _

_ Liam lifts his head up, licking his kiss-swollen lips. “You taste good.” His eyes are dark and clouded with arousal. It's intoxicating. Zayn gets drunk on it if he looks for too long. He ducks down and laps at Zayn's hole, gripping his thighs hard enough to bruise. Zayn urges him to go harder and Liam complies without a moment of hesitation. He cries out and bucks his hips but Liam holds him still, always persistent about making Zayn feel every sensation. Liam slides a finger in next to his tongue, matching his moan with Zayn's. _

_ Liam gives one hundred and ten percent and Zayn swears that every time is better than the last... _

The sex was great, and Zayn finds himself thinking about it more often than not, but there's a bigger missing piece than that. There's an empty space in Zayn's life where Liam used to be, seeping in between his fingers and ribs. The reality is he misses waking up next to him, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and the cologne he was wearing the night before. He misses the extra toothbrush on the sink, the trainers by the door, and the gross protein shakes in the fridge. He misses, so much, how Liam would say 'I love you' at least a dozen times a day, even when they were apart.

_ ‘If you want me back, just fucking say so.’ _

Zayn closes the magazine and sets it aside. 

He's alone. Sitting in the middle of his couch, in his house that feels too big, with a blunt between his fingers, trying not to cry over some shit that he caused and it just isn't fair that he doesn’t know how to fix this. More than half the battle is swallowing his pride, sucking it up, and figuring out how to say sorry.

\- - - 

When Liam shows up to Niall’s in-home studio, none other than Harry fucking Styles is lounging on the loveseat. He blinks a few times, half expecting it to be some crazy dream, but Harry is still sitting there grinning at him.

Harry and Niall knew each other when Niall was still pretending he wanted to go to college. Apparently, at the time, Harry was performing at open mic nights and getting booed at pubs. Niall swears Harry is nice but the first impression was irreversibly marred when he turned out to be a homewrecker.

Harry jumps up to greet Liam as if they’re anything more than acquaintances, if that. “How are you?” 

“I'm good, you?” Liam contemplates turning around and leaving. But, he’s more mature than that, he thinks.

“I'm fantastic.” Harry has a wild, deliriously happy look on his face. “Haven't you heard the news?” 

Liam shoots a glance at Niall and Niall is watching with an amused smirk. “What news?”

“I'm engaged!” Harry flashes his left hand and wiggles his fingers. The band is gold with a huge, round turquoise gemstone in the center. A non-traditional engagement ring for a non-traditional couple, Liam supposes. Liam was definitely going to go the traditional route with Zayn and buy him a diamond the size of the fucking moon. But, whatever. 

“Oh yeah?” Liam scratches the back of his neck, painfully uncomfortable with this situation. “You and Louis?” 

“Yeah, finally.” Harry sighs and fiddles with the ring, beaming at it. “I know it's been a right mess but he popped the question and I suppose he must be the love of my life if I keep going back, right?” 

“Right?” Liam glances at Niall again and he’s literally stifling his laughter.

“Anyway,” Harry continues, oblivious. “I came by to personally invite Niall to the engagement party. And since you’re here, would you like to come too?”

“ _ Me _ ? That's-,” 

“It doesn't have to be weird if we don't make it. It could be a peace offering or something. An olive branch.”

It's weird already. This is the man that fucked his boyfriend – or got fucked by him. He doesn't need to know the specifics, he's already kept himself up many nights, thinking about every possible way they could have done it. Wondering if Harry was just as good or better. 

“So? Yay or nay?” 

“I'll think about it,” Liam decides, knowing there’s a 99 percent chance he won’t go. Talking to Harry is weird. Going to a party to celebrate Harry’s relationship when  Harry destroyed his would be even weirder.

“Great! I'll have my people call your people!” It's meant to be a joke, so Liam gives him a weak laugh. Harry does those cheesy ‘finger gun’ motions, then says goodnight to Niall. 

When Harry is gone, Liam doesn’t even remember the reason why he came here in the first place. He drops down onto the loveseat and scratches his head. “What the hell just happened?”

Niall spins in his chair, smiling brightly. “So, are you gonna go?” 

Liam thinks for a minute. He knows Louis and Zayn are getting closer everyday, so- “Don't know. It depends.”

“On what?”

“If Zayn is gonna be there.” He sort of shrinks when he says it, anticipating Niall’s reply. 

Niall groans. “Oh no.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You want to see him, don't you?” Niall accuses, giving him the meanest look he can muster up. Which, isn’t that mean if Liam is being honest.

“Just shut up,” Liam repeats.

“No, you shut up. I can’t let you go into this all lovesick.” Niall may be an easy-going guy but he’s fiercely protective of Liam’s heart. “Remember, he cheated on you. That’s a thing that happened.”

“Yeah, with Harry Fucking Styles. Who just invited me to his engagement party. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that.” 

“Hey, I told you, that's how Harry is,” Niall says. “He's just so nice it's off-putting. But, we’re not talking about Harry-,” 

Liam looks up at him in disbelief. “He fucked my boyfriend. He's not nice. He's a homewrecker.” 

“We don't know who fucked who,” Niall points out.  

“That's not the point, Niall –,”

“You're right. That’s not the point. The point is that you're angry with Harry when you should be more angry with Zayn, yet you're seeking him out.” 

“I'm not seeking him out –,” 

“You are, and it's okay. I suppose.” Niall turns back to his workstation and puts his headphones around his neck. “I get it. I guess you still love him or something.” 

“I don't,” Liam lies. It’s easy to lie when Niall isn’t looking at him, yet it’s also easy to let some of the truth spill out. “That's not it. But I still think about him all the time. Seeing him in Miami was weird. I thought I would be more… livid, but I wasn't. It was just like, something clicked and for a like a millisecond it felt like when we were together and he was coming home after being away for a while.” 

“Conveniently forgetting about what happened at your birthday party, are we? He fake flirted with me, then got pissed at you because you called him on his shit.”

Liam sighs. “That doesn't matter –,” 

“No? If I'm remembering correctly, you pouted for the entire night after he left.” 

“It was my fucking birthday,” Liam defends. 

“So you could cry if you wanted to?” 

“Yeah, so shut it.”

“So none of that matters, huh? Him crashing your party, acting like a prick, and throwing a drink on you is all water under the bridge.” Niall looks over a notepad as he speaks, throwing the words over his shoulder. “Also, the small detail of him cheating on you. Let's not forget that.” 

Liam can’t help it. That sliver of hope appears again. The way Zayn looked almost remorseful and desperate, his hard exterior cracking for just a second... “You don't understand.”

“Obviously I don't.” 

And he knows he sounds pathetic, but- “I think...we both just needed to get that out of our systems or something. Like, I know there's more we need to talk about but--,” 

Niall spins back around in his chair. “But, you still love him.”

“Yeah,” Liam states. There’s only a little shame with the relief he feels. “I know it doesn’t make sense after everything. Feel free to call me a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not. It make sense. The heart wants what the heart wants, right? Who am I to argue with that? Even though I think it’s fucking stupid, I won’t argue with it.”

Liam can’t help but smile. “Thanks, I think.”

“So about the engagement party,” Niall says, changing the subject. “You should bring a gift if you go, so you don't look like an arsehole.” 

Liam pulls up a chair and starts peering over the scribbled notes in front of Niall. “Of course I'll bring a gift. I have to.” 

“How about a jean jacket for Harry that says ‘homewrecker’ on the back. You can decorate it with flowers and cheetah print-- he likes shit like that.”

Liam laughs so loud, he startles himself. He’s thankful for Niall and his fucked up, off-color jokes. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

\- - -

Vegas is the loneliest city Zayn has ever been in. It wasn't his idea to come back after doing a few gigs last year, but a few of his friends wanted to do it proper this time around. If he's being honest with himself, he's been sort of a buzzkill the entire time. They went to a club the first night, starting in on the drinks right away, and Zayn was fine until he realized the DJ was playing a remix of one of Liam's songs. He ended up sulking in a toilet stall, too drunk to care how childish he was being. It's too easy to succumb to alcohol induced sadness in Vegas because most of the drinks are free and no one cares enough to ask why you look like you're about to cry.

It's four or five in the morning and he's been awake for thirty-six hours and counting. A headache has been thrumming at his skull for a few hours now and he wishes he hadn't had those last couple of drinks.

Stumbling into his hotel, trying to light a cigarette with one hand and looking for his phone in his pockets with the other, Zayn decides that it'd be a really good idea to try and call Liam. He finds his phone, turns off all the lights in the place except for the one near the bed, and struggles out of his jacket and sweat-soaked shirt.

Surprisingly enough, it still feels like a good idea when he's calling Louis to ask Harry to ask Niall for Liam's new phone number.

Louis answers after one ring, shushing someone in the background before greeting Zayn with a cheery “'Ello!”

“Hey,” Zayn answers, clearing his throat. Louis will tease him until the end of time if he knows that Zayn is off his head and missing his ex. “Morning.”

“It's one in the afternoon here, love. How drunk are you?” Louis asks. There's a cackling laugh in the background and Zayn knows it's Harry then.

“Enough to ask you for Liam's number.”

Louis clicks his tongue. “Why would I have Liam's number?”

“Actually,” Zayn says, kicking off his boots and falling down onto the too soft bed. “I was wondering if Harry could ask Niall for it. Please.”

“Hmm.” Louis hums for way longer than necessary. “What do I get out of it?”

“I'll suck your dick,” Zayn jokes, then hears Harry's voice, telling him to 'watch it.' “Am I on speaker?”

“Harry and I were a little  _ busy _ when you called and unfortunately you interrupted.”

“Spare the details, please.”

There's some shuffling and then it's Harry's slow drawl over the line. “I've just sent Nialler a text asking for Liam's number and he wants to know why you need it.”

Zayn sits up, nearly dropping his cigarette, and curses at how dizzy he's made himself. “Harry, what the fuck? Did you tell him I was the one asking for it?”

“I only followed instructions.”

Zayn groans, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Tell him not to tell Liam that I asked, please.”

“You're saying please a lot,” Louis points out. Then, after his laughing fit and Zayn's stony silence, he says, “okay, okay, we now have Liam's number. But just know that if you get back together, I'm taking all the credit.”

“We're not getting back together,” Zayn exhales, sounding more solemn that he'd like. “He hates me.”

“Aww,” Louis coos, “you should have thought about that before you had sex with my boyfriend, Zaynie.”

“Harsh,” Harry adds, unnecessarily.

“Not that I'm still upset over it or anything,” Louis continues. “I'm just pointing out that if you didn't want him to hate you, you probably shouldn't have cheated on him.”

“I get it,” Zayn grunts. “Are you gonna give me his number or not?”

“Hey, by the way, are you coming to the engagement party?” Louis wonders, instead of answering Zayn's question.

“This is the first I've heard of an engagement party.” Zayn heard about them getting engaged. It was 'breaking celebrity news,' and for some reason people are tweeting him to ask what he thinks about it. He has no reason not to be happy for them– it's not like he and Harry had anything other than one night.

“Oh! I'll send you an invite!” Harry shouts and Louis shushes him again.

“I'm sending you a text with the number. Just don't say anything too stupid to him, okay?” Louis warns. Zayn mumbles his agreement and hangs up.

Zayn shouldn’t be shocked that Liam knows it’s him within two or three wordless seconds.

“Zayn?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Zayn says, lamely.

There’s a short pause and then, “How'd you get my number?” There’s noise where he is. LIke he’s at a coffee shop or restaurant.

“I asked someone for it?” 

“Who?” 

Zayn hesitates, taking a puff of his cigarette. “I can't tell.” 

“Zayn, if you don't tell me who it was, I'll hang up on you right now.” He sounds more tired than angry, which Zayn can work with. 

“Fine. I asked Louis. And Louis asked Harry, who asked Niall.” 

Liam pauses again and goes somewhere quieter. “What do you want?”

If Zayn closes his eyes, he can pretend they’re in the same room, speaking quietly to each other. It’s too much- he goes out the balcony instead, takes a deep breath of fresh air. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?” 

“...about how I'm an idiot.” 

“You're drunk.” 

Zayn hopes he isn’t slurring. He’s a mumbler naturally and he can’t imagine alcohol doing him any favors. “Yeah, I'm in Vegas, so...” 

“I know.” 

“You know?”

“You get pictures taken of you whenever you leave the house, remember?” 

“Oh, right.” 

Liam is tentative, taking his time to respond. “How drunk are you right now?” 

“Drunk enough to call you,” Zayn chuckles, but Liam doesn’t. Whatever, Zayn thought it was funny.

“Drink some water,” Liam orders, with that maternal concern creeping into his voice. “And eat something. Because I know you haven't.” 

“How d'you know?” 

There’s a lull before Liam speaks again. “Because you always forget to eat when you drink too much.” 

Zayn closes his eyes again, imagining Liam pushing his hair back and feeling his forehead. “You remember stuff about me too?” 

“Zayn…,” Liam says, so softly that it makes Zayn's chest ache.

“Louis told me not to say anything too stupid but everything I've said to you since we broke up has been stupid,” Zayn rambles, “I haven’t said one thing right since we broke up.  _ This _ isn’t even right.”

“Zayn… I can't –,” 

“I wish you would stop saying my name like that.” 

“I can't talk to you like this,” Liam says, his voice nearly a whisper.

“Will you please--  just listen for a second?”

Liam goes quiet. He’s listening. This is Zayn’s time to shine.

“I wish you were here with me.”

And Liam responds with a cold, “I really have to go. Sorry.”

“Right.” Zayn deflates. His headache pounds against his temples and his stomach twists.

“Drink water, okay?” 

Without responding, Zayn hangs up the phone. With tears stinging his eyes, goes back into his room, climbs into bed fully clothed.

“I miss you,” he whispers. “I really fucking miss you.”

\- - - 

Louis and Harry's engagement party looks like a cheesy Valentine's Day party. They've got one of Louis' many houses decorated to the nines with paper hearts on the walls, red and pink streamers from the ceilings, and giant heart-shaped balloons. 

”Nice decorations,” Liam comments, when Harry lets him into the house. 

“It's love themed!” Harry exclaims.

“I see.” 

“And I see you brought us a gift. That was nice of you.”

Liam hands the gift bag over, silently hoping that he’s the only person that bought them matching aprons and chef hats. “Yeah, I hope you two like it.” 

Harry smiles, leading Liam to table covered in drinks. He sits the gift aside and hands Liam a martini glass with a pink liquid in it. 

“What is this?” Liam sniffs it. It smells like sugar and vodka.

Harry squints, takes the drink back and sniffs it as well. “There's vodka in it.”

“Is it good?” 

“I've had four,” Harry says, handing it back. “Taste it.” 

The house has an open floor plan, with no separation between the huge living room, kitchen, and dining room. There are floor to ceiling windows and glass doors that lead to the back garden, where there's a gazebo decorated with roses and fairy lights. Liam takes a spot in the corner away from everyone, near a table piled with heart shaped cookies and brownies. He takes a sip of the bright drink, wincing at the strong taste poorly hidden by a sweet mixer, and wonders how soon he can leave without seeming like a prick. It's a private party, Liam realizes now. There aren't any bodyguards or cameras or people dressed in designer suits; it's just close friends and family, and Liam wonders again why he was even invited. There's loud music playing over the speakers and Harry is dancing with every person he comes into contact with, all while making eyes at Louis, who's mixing drinks at the bar. Niall grabs Harry by the waist and pretends to grind on him for a second before bursting into laughter, then joins Liam in his lonely corner.

“You look miserable.”

“Not miserable,” Liam replies. “Just a little awkward being here.”

“You didn't have to come,” Niall reminds him, with just a tinge of that know-it-all tone he uses so well. “You could have turned it down. I'm sure you have plenty other things you could be doing right now. But you chose to show up to the engagement party of your ex's fling. Why is that again?”

“You know why,” Liam grumbles into his drink.

Niall grins. “Waiting for him to walk in, then?”

“Shut up and leave me alone,” Liam tells him. “You're not allowed to tease me about this.”

“Wasn't teasin,' Niall says, giving Liam's shoulder a gentle squeeze, “not seriously, anyway. Hey, if Harry and Louis can work things out, then I'm pretty sure you and Zayn can too.”

Niall leaves him be and after shutting off the music, he joins Harry on the makeshift stage for karaoke. They do a hilarious rendition of Wannabe, which everyone seems to ignore until they get to the end part and all the lyrics become a drunken laughter fit.

Despite the awkwardness of being here, Liam feels more at peace than he has in a while. His conversation with Niall keeps playing over and over in his head. He feels minimally lighter after finally admitting to someone that he's still in love with Zayn, but it's still not a comforting realization– it eats at him, makes him scold himself for being so weak-willed. There's also Zayn's voice in the back of his mind, drunkenly slurring “ _ I wish you were here with me. _ ” And that's... that's just something Liam doesn't want to think about yet.

When Zayn walks in and they lock eyes, he expects animosity to brim up from somewhere inside him but there's none. Instead there's longing and craving. Suddenly, he's ready to dive head first into whatever happens between them next, even if whatever happens doesn't include a happy ending. He has to do this, for the sake of closure. Or, whatever. Zayn looks skittish as he approaches, chewing his lip and picking at his nails. As much as Liam wants to run and hide until he deems himself 'ready enough,' he doesn't. 

“Hey,” Zayn says, in a voice so soft Liam could have imagined it.

“Hi,” Liam responds, freezing under Zayn's presence.

Zayn keeps a respectable distance, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know you hate me more than usual right now, but I wanted to say sorry... for what happened at your birthday party.”

“Okay.”

“I, um,” Zayn stutters, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “I wanted to do this in person. Not over Twitter or the phone.”

“Okay,” Liam repeats. There are a thousand things running through his head and all he can fucking come up with is 'okay.' He wants so much, is the thing. He wants to run away and ignore this, leave all the loose ends the way they are. He wants to scream and cry and call Zayn a piece of shit. He wants to grab Zayn by the waist and kiss him in front of everyone, leave marks and bruises on his neck to remind him who he used to belong to. Instead, he just bites his lip and sweats through his shirt.

“I don't know what I was thinking– I'm sorry.”

Liam searches Zayn's expression and finds remorse and poorly masked fear. Zayn does have the talent of looking like a sad, kicked puppy when he wants and Liam used to fall for it all the time. But now, it's not exactly enough. “You ruined my birthday.” Liam knows he sounds like a fucking teenager, but he doesn't care. 

“I'm sorry.”

And because he has to ask, for the sake of his dignity and curiosity- “Why did you even think it was a good idea to show up when you weren't invited?”

“I wanted to see you,” Zayn answers. When Liam scoffs, Zayn takes a step closer and lowers his voice to nearly a whisper. “No, listen. That's really it... It wasn't to spite you or to piss you off. I only wanted to see you. And when I did see you, you were dancing with someone else and... I was maybe a little jealous and drunk enough to act on my first instinct.”

“Zayn..,” Liam sighs so deeply his chest gets tight. He trails off, disappointed that he can't come up with anything to say. It's too much. This is all too much.

“And I know that's not fair because you don't owe me a fucking thing, really.” Zayn continues, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Honestly, you don't even owe me a conversation. I'm the one that fucked all of this up and continues to fuck this up every time I get drunk or too brave on Twitter.”

Liam feels a pang in his chest and he must be frowning because Zayn makes a pained face back before exhaling a long sigh. “Basically I'm saying I'm sorry... for everything.” Zayn looks up at Liam expectantly, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I... don't want to talk about this here,” Liam decides. Too much, too soon. It's always going to be that way, Liam realizes, no matter how ready he thinks he is at any moment.

Zayn pauses, exhales another heavy breath, and nods. “Okay.” He’s stepping away when Liam hears it. 

It’s their song, playing through the speakers. They used to dance to it in the dining room at Zayn's place, full of liquor. They'd dim the lights and Liam would pull Zayn close and they'd just close their eyes and sway. Hearing it again after so long triggers something in Liam. He can almost feel Zayn’s breath on his ear, can almost hear his singing along to Billie Holiday’s words -  _ “Crazy, crazy he calls me…, _ ” and suddenly it’s like nothing else matters. They're here, together, and Zayn's wearing a suit, looking amazing, soft, and only a little defeated. He looks up at Liam when he hears the song too, hopeful.

After all this time, they’re still in sync. Zayn takes a step forward before Liam even asks. “Wanna dance?”

Zayn blinks at Liam’s hand for a couple of seconds, then looks up into his eyes. “Okay.”

It’s awkward at first when they step into each other’s space, not at all the instant spark that Liam was half expecting. But Zayn’s hands are as warm as they always were and he smells just the same, a mix of cigarettes and Dolce and Gabanna cologne. He has the same specs of green in his eyes, the same dark flush to his lips, and he still has very little rhythm. It feels like coming home, but there are still too many words unsaid. 

It’s dangerous almost, how easy it is to feel okay being close to him again. It’s dangerous how Zayn still looks at him with fondness etched into his features. 

When Zayn leans in for a kiss, Liam doesn’t say no this time. It feels like… falling asleep on a warm beach, like hot chocolate spiked with rum, and like sinking into a soft bed. It feels like the moment they locked eyes for the first time, when they knew without a doubt that they had something special.

It's one of the most painful things he's ever experienced.

“I just want you to know,” Liam says, still savoring the taste of Zayn’s lips, “that this doesn't mean I forgive you.” It pains him to say, makes his chest ache.  

“Yeah, I know,” Zayn whispers, squeezing Liam a little tighter.

Liam is struck speechless. What happens now? Where do they go from here?

They separate easily at the end of the song, unable to take their eyes off each other for a long moment. Liam’s heart is just starting to pound and his hands are just starting to sweat when Zayn steps back and mumbles ‘goodnight.’

-

It's not hard for Zayn to find the location of Liam’s album release party. It's downtown, probably one of those tacky hotel rooftop pool parties with an open bar and a shitty DJ. Zayn shows up at the hotel at three in the morning, just as the party is winding down. There are a few small groups of people still lingering, none of them seem to notice Zayn’s presence. Two or three paps are waiting outside the entrance, so he ducks into the alleyway and hides out of their sight. He doesn't have a plan, he realizes, and there's no way he's crashing another one of Liam's parties. All he knows is something pulled him out of bed and lead him here. 

“Hey.”

Zayn turns and Liam is there, standing at the end of alley alone, with a cigarette in hand. 

“Oh.” Zayn stares, he can't help it. Liam looks good, if not a little tired. A little unsteady on his feet, swaying a bit as he turns to face Zayn fully. 

“What are you doing out here?” Liam asks. 

“Waiting for you, I guess.”

Liam exhales some smoke and shrugs. Aloof, or something like it. “Well I'm here.” 

“How was the party?” Zayn asks, as his heart starts pounding in his chest. He had no plan, but wasn’t expecting anything this-  _ calm _ . 

“Fun. Can't drink as much as I used to. Tend to act a little silly these days. But don't we all?”

Zayn winces, remembering Liam's birthday. He swallows to try and ease the dryness in his throat. “Do people like the album?”

Liam smirks, that tipsy little smile that used to be reserved for Zayn. “Did you?”

Fuck. Liam knows- of course he knows. He sees right through him and always has. He knows how nervous Zayn is, how much Zayn will kick himself in the ass if he doesn’t make this right. 

“Did I like it?” Zayn repeats. He listened to the album in its entirety a few nights ago. It was torture, listening to the songs that are blatantly about him and being forced to play back the aftermath of their relationship.

_ “Just leave. I don't care where you go, I just don't want to see you ever again. Leave me alone.” _

But he listened to it again and again and he knows now, without a doubt, Liam still loves him. It's bittersweet, because he knows in the back of his mind that Liam will never trust him again. Love only gets you so far.

“It was good.”  There's something cathartic about hearing, in detail, about how you broke someone's heart. He might get a little more of that feeling tonight. Maybe he'll sleep for the first time in two days- or maybe this will all blow up in his face.

Liam nods, taking a long drag.

“You still smoke?”

“From time to time.” Liam hands the cigarette over and Zayn takes it, placing it unsurely between his lips. If he can pretend like there aren't a thousand words unsaid, it almost feels like the first time they met. Sharing a cigarette on a late night, hidden in shadows, away from prying eyes. They're standing closer now and Zayn almost says it- ‘I still love you.’ Almost says ‘I miss you and I want you back.’ 

Instead he swallows it down and waits. Liam has something on the tip of his tongue, Zayn knows. That’s another small thing that sends a sharp pang of hurt straight to his chest- the fact that he remembers all of Liam’s little quirks and tells. 

“So you wanna talk, right?” Liam looks up from the pavement, chewing his lip. “I was heading home in a bit...we could go there?”

-

In the light of the house, Zayn hopes it doesn't show that he's been functioning off coffee and weed these past few days. The lack of sleep and the fact that he's a little stoned means there are probably bags the size of the moon under his eyes. There are more important things at hand, but looking like shit doesn’t make his nerves any better. 

Liam's house is clean like it always is. The living room is decorated the same, maybe with two or three more awards on the mantel. The couch he sits on is the same one they had sex on the first time– when they were too eager to get completely undressed and Liam rode him hard and fast, gripping the collar of his shirt. The memory makes Zayn a little dizzy, especially being so close to each other again. 

Liam kicks off his shoes, sets two glasses of water on the side table, and sits on the other end of the couch. He's tense now, any evidence of his good night having faded away on the ride over. “Suppose we should get right to it.”

Zayn clears his throat. “Should I start or you?”

“I'll start,” Liam mumbles, wringing his hands together. He fixes his gaze on his glass of water ,watching the condensation drip onto the wood. “Before anything.. I just need you to understand where I'm coming from, okay? You're not allowed to get angry about how I feel...just listen. Okay? I have a lot to say and you need to understand that it’s, like, really fucking hard for me to say it all.”

Zayn nods, maybe a little too eagerly. “Yeah. okay.”

“I-- feel like fame got to your head,” Liam starts, his voice wavering. He forces a cough. “I remember how sweet… and sort of shy you were when we first met, and I guess I didn't notice at first but you just got too cool when media started paying attention to you... and after what you did, I felt betrayed and all that but at the same time I felt like I should have seen it coming.” He shrugs, picking at his cuticles. Zayn wants to reach over and smack his hand. 

“I don't know…” Liam trails off for a minute, before finding his words, “like maybe you thought you were too good for me or that I wasn't good enough because you could have anyone you wanted. People falling at your feet, properly begging for you and what was I? Nothing, apparently...”

Zayn waits, Liam chews his lip. “Is that what you really think?” Zayn questions. “Honestly?”

Liam looks somewhere off to the side of Zayn’s face. “Yeah, it is.”

It's like a knife in the chest, slicing him open from sternum to navel. Zayn grits his teeth, tries and fails to swallow his pride. “If that's what you think of me then you don't know shit about me at all.” 

“What else am I supposed to think when that's all you showed me?” Liam frowns and gets up off the couch, moving to stand halfway across the room. “Honestly, Zayn, don’t tell me you don’t take advantage of your fame, especially since we  broke up. Fucking whoever you want, doing drugs, renting out clubs every other weekend.”

Immediately, the mood shifts. They're at each other's throats in no time. At the snap of a finger. Zayn scrambles to keep up, desperate to defend himself. 

“I’m not doing any of that shit anymore! You know that too!” Zayn knows this isn't about him, but he can't help it. Too fucking stubborn. “You just go by what everyone else says, don't you? That's so unfair, Liam--,”

“ _ No _ , I go by every single interaction we've had since breaking up. You've been arrogant. Just because you're not pretending to be some kind of fucking spoiled rich kid anymore doesn't make you any less arrogant. And what's 'unfair', Zayn, is that you slept with someone else a year into our relationship and when I reacted like any human being would, you started acting like a prick and picking fights on Twitter.”

“I  _ apologized _ for that!” 

“That doesn't make it  _ okay _ !” Liam slams his fist on the mantle. “That doesn't make any of this okay! It doesn't mean I should automatically forgive you.” 

True, of course, Zayn thinks. “I'm not  _ trying _ to convince you to forgive me,” he says, which is mostly a lie.

“Then what  _ are _ you trying to do?” When Liam is met with nothing but silence, he gives Zayn a steely look and goes on. “You said you wanted to talk. I've said my piece. Now it's your turn.” 

Zayn takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and starts over. He's already cut open, he might as well spill his guts. 

“Liam... it is so hard for me to express myself like this and you know that. I either shut down and I close myself off or say a bunch of shit that comes out all wrong and senseless and fucking mean... I always feel like I have to defend myself and put on a tough exterior before anyone can even get to me. Like,  _ of course _ I didn't mean any of the shit I've talked to you, it's just me spewing shit just because I'm fucking emotionally inept and I have all of these excess feelings that I don't know where to place.” He looks at Liam finally, hesitant. It simultaneously feels like a weight off his shoulders and someone punching him in the chest. “Point is, I'm not good at saying sorry, especially when I have to say it a million times before I'm taken seriously.”

They're quiet for a long few minutes, letting the words settle.

“Liam…” Zayn breathes with no intention to say anything next. His mind is fucking racing and he can't keep up.

Liam crosses his arms and looks Zayn right in the eyes. “I loved you,” he says, softly, his voice breaking. “I was head over heels for you.” 

Zayn almost crumbles then, almost gets down on his knees and begs. “And you don't think I loved you too?” 

_ Loved.  _ In past tense, as if Zayn’s heart isn’t aching right this second with how much love he has for Liam. 

Just like that, the harshness is back in Liam's tone. “If you really loved me, why'd you do something you  _ knew _ would hurt me? Why?” 

Instead of answering the question, Zayn says the wrong thing yet again. “Hey, you don't think I was hurt when you fucking moved on right away? Not even two weeks and you’re being papped on the beach with a fucking fashion designer slash model.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them and fuck, he hates himself so much. 

“Okay, but that isn't the same thing, Zayn! I moved on so quickly because I was hurt and lonely. I didn’t think I'd be able to trust anyone ever again because of what you did to me.” 

“It was a  _ mistake _ ,” Zayn reasons. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean-”

“Of course you think it's a mistake now. You waited two days to call, Zayn. I find it hard to believe that you were guilty about it at all when it happened.”

Pain is laced in every word Liam says, heavy and sharp. And Zayn feels them cutting at his throat, making it hard for him to speak. 

“You don't know how I felt,” Zayn mumbles lamely.

“Then tell me,” Liam snaps. “Go on.”

“It's... complicated.” 

Liam rolls his eyes. “Don't give me that shit. Tell me how you felt. Tell me why you waited two days to call when you _ knew _ I saw the pictures.” 

“I thought that maybe you would call first. I don't know.” Zayn does know. From the second it was over, guilt started eating at him from the inside out and he couldn’t even look at his own reflection. Regret and shame kept him up for those two days, and the anxiety kept him from calling.

“Why would I do that? You cheat on me and you were waiting on  _ me  _ to call  _ you?  _ What is wrong with you?” Liam stalks around the coffee table and stops in front of Zayn. His brows knit together and he searches Zayn's expression with bewilderment. “You cheated on me and I found out on  _ Twitter _ . You broke my fucking heart. And you wanted me to call you? Do you  _ hear  _ yourself right now?”

Zayn all but shrinks under Liam’s shadow. “Liam, I'm sorry. It was a mistake. I'm so sorry.” He'll say it again and again, just to get Liam to stop looking at him with contempt. And because he is, so sorry. He’s the sorriest fucking person he knows. 

“We were together for a year, how was cheating a 'mistake?' You deliberately chose to do that. No one held a gun to your head and made you do it… god, every time I think about it, I feel so  _ stupid _ for trusting you. I was so fucked up over it for so long and I still am.” Liam paces back to the other side of the room, then turns back to spit the words at Zayn. “Why did you do that to me? What the fuck were you  _ thinking _ , Zayn?” 

Liam is pleading, and Zayn can’t come up with anything better to say. “I don't know... I don't have a real excuse. I’m just shit person.” 

“ _ Stop _ trying to make me feel sorry for you.” 

“I’m not,” Zayn assures. He hangs his head in shame. “I'm just telling it like it is. Maybe I did let fame get to me in that moment. I felt invincible, like so high above everyone else that nothing could touch me. I know it sounds bad but, I saw something else I wanted and I knew I could get it so I went after it.” 

Liam clenches his jaw- Zayn can see it from where he’s sitting and he knows he's fucked. “You pursued him?”

“Yeah, sort of.” His stomach flips and tightens- this is the conversation he never wanted to have.

“And then what happened?”

“I really don't want to talk specifics with you about this.” 

“Just tell me,” Liam begs. “I need this.” 

“I, um, went over and talked to him and he was flirting before I even decided if I was really gonna go through with anything.” Zayn stares into the empty fireplace as he speaks the rest. “But, I went along with it and we kissed... then, he asked me back to his place and I said yes. That’s it.” 

“And then what?” 

“We went.” 

Liam’s voice trembles as he speaks. “Did you fuck him or did he fuck you?” 

“Liam...” 

“Tell me,” Liam orders. “Please.”

“He fucked me.” Zayn barely remembers the actual sex- they were so drunk it was over in like three minutes and the next morning he was hungover and guilty and just wanted to go home. At that time, home was wherever Liam was.

Liam squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his eyelids, as if he’s scrubbing the image away. “God, I can't even look at you right now.” 

“It was a mistake,” Zayn says again, as if it means anything at all.

Liam's quiet for a long time and Zayn belatedly realizes that he's full on crying, trying and failing to wipe the tears before they fall. His voice is shaky and quiet. “You weren't even thinking of me, were you? Not even for a second. I was at home, waiting for you, planning our fucking wedding in my head and you weren't even–  _ shit _ .” He shudders, shaking his head, half hiding his face with his hands. “You weren't even thinking of me.”

“I’m sorry. Fuck I didn’t realize--,” Zayn almost reaches for him, wants more than anything to hold him and squeeze him, encapsulate him completely until he forgets the rest of the world. But he can't, and he won't. “I'm so sorry, Liam. I know this is a stupid thing to say, but I really wasn't thinking… about how much it would hurt you and god, that was so fucking stupid of me because look what I've done. I'm so fucking sorry. Liam look at me, I'm sorry. I was wrong- there's no excuse.” Zayn feels the tears coming and does nothing to stop them. He chokes on his words. “You don't deserve any of what I've done to you. I- you don't have to forgive me. I understand if you never can or want to. ”

Liam drops his forehead against the mantle and cries. Zayn watches, swiping at his eyes with his sleeve and trying to keep it together. It's nearly impossible to, when Liam is falling apart in front of him. And it's all his fault.

“Fuck.“ He grits his teeth and breathes through the lump in his throat. “Fuck. Fuck.” 

He should leave. Why is he still here? There’s nothing left to say or do- it’s all laid out in front of him and though there’s an inkling of hope deep down inside him, he can’t see this getting any better. Liam will always, always, always resent him. Zayn had hoped for catharsis, but this sure as fuck isn’t it. 

“You're crying.”

Zayn blinks away some tears. “Huh?”

Liam sniffles, lifting his head from the mantle. “I've never seen you cry before.”

“Well, I cry sometimes. Just never in front of you.” 

“You know,” Liam sighs. “I never wanted to believe that you were the person you presented yourself as. But, it's hard…”

“I was arrogant. And selfish. But, that's not why I did what I did. You- I… I had it in my head that what we had was too good to be true. It was self sabotage, and that sounds fucking ridiculous out loud but it's true. I thought you were too good for me and that I didn't deserve you. So, I fucked it all up and I've regretted it every single day since. I'm not that person. I'm still just as insecure as I was before we met.”

The room feels eerily silent and empty as Liam turns and leaves. It takes a second, but Zayn follows. He's not ready to give up just yet. Liam is nearly up the stairs when Zayn gets to him, moving wordlessly towards his bedroom. 

Zayn hesitates in the doorway, watching Liam drop himself down on the foot of the bed. “Can I?”

Liam nods, and Zayn shuffles into the room and sits next to him. Before Zayn can get his thoughts together, Liam reaches for him.

“C'mere,” he says, draping his arms around Zayn's shoulders. Zayn responds immediately, wrapping his arms around Liam's waist. It shouldn't feel right, but it does. It feels like home. They lean against each other, sniffling and crying, in the fucked up little home they've built. 

“What are we doing?” Zayn asks. 

“I don't know,” Liam admits, “I'm a fucking mess.”

There's something tugging at Zayn's heartstrings, something more than all the pain and misery he's caused. Sitting here, holding each other brings up positive memories that he hopes will never fade away. 

“Remember when we went to Italy?” 

Liam hums against Zayn's forehead. 

“I'd never been there on a real holiday,” Zayn continues, taking a deep breath “and there was so much to see but all I could look at was you. When I think back on it, all I remember is you, smiling at me and laughing at my stupid jokes. I remember waking up to you already being awake, staring at me like some kind of creep,” Zayn laughs at the memory, trying to ignore the uncomfortable twisting in his gut. “I think about that all the time.” 

Liam nods, sliding his hand down Zayn's back. “I think about that a lot too.” 

Zayn tilts his head up to look at Liam, searching his face for something that'll tell him what to say next. Liam blinks and a tear falls from his eyelashes.

With a hesitant brush of his thumb, Zayn wipes away Liam’s tears. His hand lingers on Liam's cheek and Liam moves into the touch. Zayn's stomach is doing backflips, he's breathing so hard his breath gets caught in his chest. “What are we doing?” 

Liam sighs and lets his eyes flutter closed. “I don't know.” 

The tension in the room seems to change form then. The unsettling feeling in his bones and the uncertainty in the air is replaced with something more familiar. A thick, heavy longing- the magnetism that brought them together.  

“I'm gonna…” Zayn trails off and presses their lips together, tasting tears. It makes him press harder, wanting wipe away the unpleasant memories swimming in mind. Liam parts his lips and breathes hotly into Zayn's mouth, trailing his tongue over Zayn's upper lip.

‘I want you’ Zayn thinks, ‘I missed this so much.’ But he doesn't dare utter a word. He won't ruin this. Liam's hand finds the back of Zayn's head and he grabs a fistfull of hair, guiding Zayn into the crook of his neck. Zayn winces, scraping his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin of Liam's neck. Liam fucking whimpers, and Zayn is instantly rock hard. Still holding him by the hair, Liam pulls Zayn away and then shoves him back onto the mattress. His eyes are still watery as he climbs between Zayn's legs and undoes both of the belts and zippers. There's a moment when they seem frozen, breathing hard and staring at each other, silently questioning. Liam breaks first by crashing their lips together and wrapping his hand around Zayn's throat. 

They don’t speak, they just fall into each other, wild and frantic, scratching and tugging at each other’s clothes. Zayn gets his hand halfway around both their cocks, making quick work of spreading the precum over the hot, throbbing skin. Liam bites down on Zayn’s lip hard, scraping his teeth over the flesh as he pulls away to mouth at Zayn's ear instead. He squeezes Zayn's throat harder and Zayn sees spots. Zayn wants to moan but nothing comes out- his hand slicks over the cocks messily with no rhythm. “Oh my god,” Liam groans, thrusting into Zayn's fist. It's almost enough to send Zayn over the edge. Just a couple more…

Suddenly Liam stops. His grip on Zayn's neck loosens and his body goes rigid. 

“Wha-?”

And then Zayn feels it, Liam is trembling all over and his cheeks are wet with tears. He's sobbing, “oh my god, oh my god,” and Zayn's head is still half clouded with arousal.

Liam sits up and rushes to fix his clothes. He doesn't look Zayn in the eyes.

“Liam, talk to me-”

“You need to go,” Liam chokes out. “Now.”

It's all a blur as Zayn gets his clothes together and stumbles out of the room. He finds himself outside on the front step, in a haze, calling a car to come pick him up.

\---

It takes Zayn an entire five months to get some semblance of a normal life back. Liam went on tour, Zayn shaved his head, and they didn't try to contact each other. 

He went off the grid for a while, staying in countries where people aren't likely to recognize him. He isolated himself, not answering calls or texts unless absolutely necessary. He wrote a lot of bad songs that'll never see the light of day, gave up drinking for a little bit more weed, and walked on expensive private beaches late at night when he couldn't sleep. He avoided most things- including Twitter and any news site that may feature anything about Liam. He quit Liam cold turkey.

Four months in, he was at a grocery shop in Thailand and saw a tiny picture of Liam on the cover of a teen magazine. He went back to his villa and cried for three hours straight. 

The last month he was away, after a series of embarrassing mini-breakdowns, he finally reached catharsis. It's okay that he still loves Liam, and probably always will. He's come to terms with the idea that Liam may never forgive him. He still wants, with every fiber of his being, for the two of them to start all over or move past everything. But, Zayn understands that Liam needed to heal and so did he, in his own way. 

He can't spend any more time being angry and hurt about something he caused– he has to let go and stop harboring negative feelings. He can't force anything and he can't change the past. 

If this is it, he has to learn to accept it. 

\---

It was only a matter of time, really. Another LA awards show, a few more nominations, and one more instance of brushing past Zayn Malik on the red carpet. 

Zayn nods in his direction and Liam just sort of blinks in response. It's been long enough that he's over the embarrassment of their last encounter. But that doesn't mean his presence doesn't still send a shiver down Liam's spine. It doesn’t mean that he didn’t think about Zayn every single day for six months. He freezes in place for a minute, contemplating looking back to see if Zayn is looking too. Before Liam can decide, he's being corralled into the venue and led to his seat. 

It shouldn't surprise him that a little while later, Zayn is being seated just a row in front of him and five spots away. 

A few months ago, Liam saw some low quality pictures of Zayn on a beach in Thailand, shaved head and ever present cigarette in hand. Now he's back, all cleaned up, wearing a classic black suit. His hair is shaggy on top and shaved short on both sides, reminding Liam of the style he had when they first met. 

Liam wonders if Zayn thought about him every day, the same way Liam lied awake all night with Zayn on his mind. He wonders if Zayn still feels something, anything at all, for Liam. 

They're nominated for two of the same awards, he learned this morning. Fan Favorite of the Year and Best Pop/R&B Song. It’s sort of awkward, but Liam can’t ever be surprised that they’ll always be linked together in some way. Liam can’t ignore the way people react when he and Zayn are in the same place at the same time. It sets them up for questioning looks, faux words of comfort, and more invasive questions about their relationship. Liam braces himself for all of this as he sits, watching the back of Zayn’s head. 

It’s just another awards show. Not to say that Liam is ungrateful for the experience, but they all sort of blur together after being in the business for ten years. Bad sketches, cringeworthy bits that go on too long, and eleven minute tribute performances that could be a little shorter. 

Liam zones out until he sees ‘newly engaged power couple’ Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles take the stage to present an award. They’re cute together, Liam can’t deny it. And he’s happy for them, really- it’s just still a sore subject for him is all. They’re engaged and smitten the only person Liam can even think of having that with is Zayn. It should be them, could have been if a little thing called infidelity didn't exist. 

Hours pass and Zayn doesn’t turn his head at all to look in Liam’s direction. In fact, it isn’t until Zayn gets up to accept the award for Best Pop/R&B Music Video that he seems to notice Liam’s presence. He sends LIam a tight-lipped smile and walks up on stage, shaking the hand of some forgettable reality tv star. With his award in hand, Zayn takes a deep breath, and Liam swears they lock eyes as Zayn says, “Thank you.” Then he exits the stage, leaving most audience members confused and unsatisfied. 

The second the show is over, Liam looks for him. It’s a mess after these things, crowds filled with production crew, bodyguards, and disappointed celebrities. 

Liam spots Zayn weaving through the group and makes a beeline for him, abandoning his team. Before he loses the tiny bit of courage he managed he work up, he goes for it. He grabs Zayn by the hand and pulls him to the side, just outside of the exit. 

“Liam,” Zayn says, his eyes wide. “What-?”

“I need to talk to you.” 

Zayn glances at all the people around them and chews his lip. “Here?”

“No, um-,” Liam stutters, noticing that he's still holding Zayn's hand. It’s warm, and just the right amount of rough. He drops it, shoving his hand in his pocket. “Somewhere else, obviously.”

“My place?” Zayn suggests. “I mean, if that's okay. It's not too far.”

He seems mostly at ease, which only makes this more nerve wracking for Liam. 

“That works.” Liam had forgotten that Zayn had a place here in LA. It'll be his first time seeing it, hopefully not his last.

“Okay, cool.”

They gaze at each other, seeming to silently communicate everything left unsaid over the past months. This isn't over, Liam thinks.  _ They're _ not over. There's that sliver of hope again, wrapping around his lungs and mingling with the butterflies in his stomach. 

“I'll meet you at the car?” Zayn says, backing away.

“Yeah, cool, I'll find you.”

When they part, Liam lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and makes way to the closed off car area. On his way, he dodges a dozen paps and stops to sign stuff for fans. They ask him how he's doing and he has to laugh. How  _ is _ he doing? He hasn't stopped to think about it yet. There's anticipation running through his veins knowing Zayn is waiting for him. 

Zayn is leaning against a black SUV when Liam spots him. He's alone, no security team or assistant in sight. A driver is also noticeably missing.

“Since when do you drive?” Liam wonders out loud as he approaches.

A smile tugs at Zayn's lips. “Umm, since about a month ago.”

“Oh really? How is it?”

“Slightly terrifying,” Zayn chuckles now, shrugging his shoulders. “But I couldn't put it off any longer.” He opens up the passenger seat and motions for Liam to get in, then shuts the door and walks around to the driver's side. It's almost funny to see Zayn behind the wheel. When they first started dating, he said he would teach Zayn how to drive and they got about as far as the end of the street before Zayn decided he'd had enough. 

More paparazzi flock to the car at the exit of the parking area. Zayn lets the windows up and turns on some music but Liam can still hear them through the glass. ‘ _ Zayn, Liam! Are you two getting back together?!’ _

Zayn laughs it off and waves at them, turning onto the street and speeding away. 

Liam fiddles with the radio, avoiding Zayn’s stupid radiant smile. Zayn taps his fingers on the steering wheel, humming along to the music. They're on the freeway, driving towards Hollywood Hills when Liam just blurts it out. “I'm sorry.”

Zayn glances at Liam, then steadies his eyes back on the road. “ _ You're _ sorry?”

“For...what happened the last time we saw each other. I didn't mean to push you away the way I did. I just thought I needed to- I don't know…”

“You needed to think things over,” Zayn finishes. “I understand. Anyway I, like, probably deserved it.”

“I was confused and overwhelmed about us...um, you know…”  _ Recklessly hooking up,  _ he should say _.  _ Instead he blinks the memory away, taking a deep breath. “Ah, um… and I was a little embarrassed, because I felt like I might have given in too easily? Which, you know, is ridiculous because it's not like I didn't  _ want _ it-,”

“It's okay, I understand.”

“You do?”

“This might be weird to say, but I'm a bit glad we didn't talk or see each other for a while,” Zayn chuckles a little. “It was harsh, yeah, and it fucking sucks but I feel better about everything. I mean, especially now that you actually want to talk.”

“What would you have done if I hadn't found you first?” Liam asks. “Just curious.”

“To be honest, I probably would have left you alone.”

“Oh,” Liam says, a little deflated.

Zayn grips the wheel and sighs. “But, that doesn't mean I would have stopped thinking about you literally every second of every day.”

Liam swoons a little at that, his heart beating fast. “I, um.. I just- I really missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Zayn says easily, pulling into his gated community. “And I'm trying to stay cool but I'm literally shitting myself over this...”

Of course Liam can't help it. “‘Literally shitting yourself’? Literally?”

“You know what I mean.” Zayn rolls his eyes, but the grin never leaves his face.

“You said literally.”

“You're not making me any less nervous, you know,” Zayn points out as he stops the car in the driveway. He turns to Liam, keys in hand. “Was that your plan?”

“Am I not breaking the ice?” Liam teases.

“What ice?” Zayn counters.

“Right, because we don't have a history at all.” The joke slips right off his tongue and surprisingly it doesn't hurt at all. They do have a history, but he's hoping this could be a chance for closure. Whether closure means starting over and putting everything behind them or moving on forever is still to be determined.

“This is nice,” Zayn says, “talking to you like this again.”

“I think so too.” Through it all, they still had chemistry and it doesn't seem to be going away.

“So, this is it.” Zayn nods towards the mid-sized (and probably multi-million dollar) home. “How does tea sound?”

“Casual,” Liam jokes as they get out of the car.

As soon as they're in the house, Zayn starts stripping. He takes off his coat and throws it across the chair in the foyer, kicks off his shoes, and pops the top buttons on his shirt. “Versace is great and all, but not comfortable after six hours.”

Liam shrugs off his blazer and hangs it on the empty coat rack, which makes Zayn laugh, then follows him into the kitchen. “Nice place.” 

It's very  _ Zayn _ . Minimal yet decorated with colorful art pieces and knick knacks. 

“Thanks, I'm rarely here,” Zayn responds, pulling out a chair for Liam. 

Liam sits, deciding it's okay to loosen his tie a little. He notices Zayn's gaze linger on the newly exposed skin on his chest. “Still nice. Though I wouldn't have gone with so much chrome in the kitchen.”

“ _ Hey _ , I have  _ fantastic _ taste _ ,” _ Zayn puts on a faux pout but breaks immediately. He holds up two jars of loose leaf tea. “I have something called ‘Moroccan Mint’ and ‘Sleepytime Camomile.’ Please make your choice without judging me.”

“The mint one, please.”

“Good choice,” Zayn turns on the tap and starts filling the kettle with water. “So… I've had a lot of time to think and I just wanted to say sorry again and that I hope we can be friends, if anything at all. I said and did a lot of stuff that’s unforgivable. So, like, i understand if…,-” 

And here they are. It's not pleasant, but they can't avoid talking about it anymore.

“We both said a lot of hurtful things, not just you.” 

Zayn puts the kettle on the stove and leans against the counter. “Yeah, but you were hurt. And I suppose I was hurt too, but most of the time I was just being a shithead.” 

“Well…,” Liam pauses, contemplating. He can make this easy, or he can make this unnecessarily hard. He goes for somewhere in the middle, as to not seem desperate. “It's up to me if I want to forgive you.” 

Zayn crosses his arms, tilts his head a little to the side. “Well,  _ do _ you?” 

“Mostly,” Liam says, for the sake of being coy. “About 90 percent. We can work on the rest, I suppose.”

It's dizzying, the way Zayn looks at him and licks his lips. He turns away for a moment, opening and closing cupboards. “When I say I miss you, I don't just these past months but this past year.” he says, back still turned. 

Liam notices the way Zayn tenses a little as he speaks, as if he's preparing himself to be let down. 

“I missed you too,” Liam says, hoping it eases Zayn's nerves. “I've been missing you since we broke up. I just- I need to know one thing.” 

Zayn turns back to face him, brows raised. “Hmm?” 

“I've known for some time now that you've wanted me back- even when we were drunk and arguing at my birthday. I  _ definitely _ knew it when we kissed at Harry and Louis’ engagement party and I thought, when we talked after my record release party, that you were finally going to come out and say it. Deep down, I knew it though and I know it now. But I just want to ask you, just so I can hear you say it...Do you love me?”

Zayn's voice is smooth and slow like honey. “I never stopped loving you, Liam.”

“I never stopped loving you either.” It feels like a weight off his shoulders and he’s lighter than air. The words he avoided so long are finally out in the open. He feels cut open, but in a good way. 

“Yeah.” Zayn is beaming, biting his lip to try and hide it. “I know.”

Liam feels himself start to grin, his cheeks heating up. “I wanted to hate you. I tried  _ so _ hard to hate you. You hurt me,  I resented you, and you annoyed the shit outta me- but I never hated you.”

“Thought for a while you did.” Zayn admits, uncrossing his arms and looking all pouty. “Again, I probably deserved it.”

Liam practically explodes with laughter. “My shit acting job actually convinced you?”

“C’mon, you hated me a little,” Zayn says, laughter creeping into his voice too. “Admit it.”

“A little. But it's kinda hard to hate someone when you love them so much,” Liam admits.

Zayn nods and strokes his chin. “Poetic.”

Liam watches Zayn move around the kitchen, searching for cups and sugar in the half empty cupboards. It feels domestic again, like those times they’d stay up late and find themselves in the kitchen, giggling, a little stoned, and very much in love. 

“You like honey, right?” Zayn asks, rifling through the cupboard next to the stove. “I might be out. Never getting around to shopping like a normal person.”

“I know,” Liam says. “We’d eat take out whenever we were at your house.” 

“Hey, I cooked for you once.”

“ _ Once _ ,” Liam emphasizes. “And what happened?”

Zayn ticks all the events off on his fingers. “I burned the chicken, the pasta was mushy, and apparently I don’t know how to open a wine bottle-,”

“And because of that, I had a black eye for two weeks,” Liam adds. 

“I made up for it, if I'm remembering correctly,” Zayn defends.

“You are.” Liam remembers too- they had sex under the dining room table and fell asleep half clothed on the couch. “And it was fun.”

“It was,” Zayn agrees, and Liam swears he can see him blush. “Do you remember what else happened that night?” 

“I do.” There's no way he could forget it even if he tried. The tremble in his voice and the intense look Zayn's eyes… “We said I love you for the first time.”

“We did,” Zayn says, “That's another thing that I think about a lot.”

Something happens then, something shifts and everything falls into place again. This is what he wanted, not moving on but not quite starting over either. Talking and joking about their past, having tea, and loving each other unabashedly. All Liam can think about is how right this feels, like a second chance at fate. All the drunken truths they've shared over the last year, ones fueled by anger and hurt, don't hold a candle to this. 

He gets out of his seat and walks across the kitchen. He feels at peace, unshaken and confident as he cradles Zayn's head in his hands and presses their lips together. It's so soft and sweet it's more of a brush of skin on skin than anything. 

“Yeah?” Zayn breathes, searching Liam's expression.

Liam nods, feeling the stubble on Zayn's cheeks. “I’m ready to try this again.” 

Zayn pulls Liam in closer, holding him by the hips. “You trust me?”

Liam moves into the embrace, impossibly close. “I want to give you a chance. We don't have to talk too much about it or get all serious and cry about it either. I'm done overthinking everything- I just love you, and that's all that matters to me right now.” 

Zayn kisses him, hard, moaning into Liam’s lips and sending vibrations throughout his entire body. “I promise” he says, between kisses, “I only want you,” he slides his hands up Liam’s sides, fitting his fingers in between Liam’s ribs, “Forever and ever and ever and-,” 

“Shhh, just kiss me.” 

Zayn fucking  _ whines _ , “Yes sir,” and licks the at roof of Liam's mouth. 

“To your room?” Liam suggests, at little breathless already. 

“You sure?”

“Don't make me change my mind.”

“I'll shut up, I promise,” Zayn says, leading Liam through the house. He stops at the end of the hall, in front of what Liam assumes is the bedroom. “Unless you want me to be loud.”

“Oh shut up,” Liam laughs and shoves him into the room. A lamp in the corner turns on, brightening the space. The room is tidy, with a black and red color scheme and a bed with a pillow arrangement fit for a king. Liam is just about to make a joke when Zayn speaks up. 

“You just gonna stand there?” He's seated on the edge of the bed, chewing his lip. 

Liam walks over and pushes Zayn onto his back. “Wasn't planning on it.” 

Zayn smirks, crawls up to the center of the bed and beckons Liam closer. “Here.”

Liam follows, and fits himself between Zayn's thighs. Zayn kisses along Liam's jawline, his breath tickling Liam's earlobe. Liam giggles at the sensation, flinching away. “Sorry- it's just been a while.”

“How long?” Zayn asks, still tickling the hell out of Liam's neck. 

“Since Sophia.”

“Oh. Wow.” Zayn pulls away, looking genuinely surprised. “That long?” 

“Don't rub it in.” Liam's face gets hot. “What about you? When’s the last time you hooked up?”

“Well if you must know-,”

“Yes, I must,” Liam insists. “Let's shift the focus off me, yeah?”

“It was like, eight months ago, not that I'm counting. Maybe last August? Definitely not after I saw you at future Mr. and Mr. Styles-Tomlinson’s engagement party. There was no one else after that night.”

“That was the night we kissed,” Liam says. He smiles and Zayn fidgets underneath him.

“Right. But it's like totally a coincidence-”

“Shut up,” Liam is smiling so hard now his face hurts. 

Zayn grins, devilish. “So, why'd you stop?” 

“Stop what?”

“Hooking up with people?”

“Why did you?” Liam retorts. 

“You know.” Zayn scratches his fingers gently at the nape of Liam's neck. “And I asked you first.”

“Do I really need to answer that?”

“Do  _ I _ ?”

“Yes.”

“Easy,” Zayn says, brushing his lips against Liam's. “Because I love you.”

Despite the eagerness in Zayn's eyes and in Liam's veins, they take their time. They kiss and undress each other slow, rediscovering each others bodies. It's amazing how easy it feels to kiss down the center of Zayn's chest and unbuckle his belt. He kisses his way back up, taking in Zayn's every sigh and tremble. There are tattoos on Zayn's chest that Liam has never seen before- he traces his fingertips over them, loving the way Zayn moves under his touch. 

When they're finally down to their boxers, Zayn pulls away a bit, keeping a hand on Liam's cheek. “Where do you want me?”

Liam slips one hand under the waistband of Zayn's boxers, grabbing hold of his cock. “Right here, babe.”

“Oh, fuck-,” Zayn drops his head onto the pillows, his eyes fluttering closed. Liam has to mentally scold himself to stay calm, and to not fuck him up right this second. He gives Zayn a kiss, rough and quick, then gets out of bed to search the nightstands. 

“Second drawer, behind the box of tissues,” Zayn informs. His hand has replaced Liam's, stroking himself lazily.

Liam finds a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. He hates to kill the mood, but he has to ask- “So, should I wear a condom, or…?”

“Up to you,” Zayn answers, his voice hitching. He works his hand over his cock steadily as he speaks. “I'm very much in love with you, so I wouldn't tell you I was clean if I wasn't. To be honest, we don't even have to fuck- we can just cuddle. That's how much I love you.” 

“You are fucking ridiculous.” Liam drops the box of condoms and brings the lube back to the bed with him. 

Zayn opens his legs and makes room for Liam. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

Liam pins Zayn's hands to his chest, trapping them in between their bodies with one hand. With the other, he starts to tease Zayn with two lubed up fingers. Zayn gasps, immediately lifting his hips and wrapping his legs around Liam's waist for a better angle. 

Zayn is quiet when he bottoms, stifling his moans and reactions. But, he always submits so beautifully, going pliant and rolling with whatever Liam does. This time is no different- as Liam enters him, Zayn closes his eyes and groans so deep in his belly that Liam feels it. Liam rocks into him, holding his wrists above his head to keep him right where he belongs. Liam bites at the veins on his neck, licks up the sweat dripping down his clenched jaw line. “I love you,” Liam breathes, “Look at me, babe. I love you so fucking much.” Zayn opens his eyes, clouded and teary, and moans Liam's name over and over, like a prayer, his voice cracking. It's been so long and Liam has wanted this so much that it feels surreal. He's pictured this, over and over for the past year- Zayn's completely undone, disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, cock pulsing and leaking. “Faster, babe, harder,” Zayn begs. Liam hikes Zayn's legs up, bringing his knees wider, and fucks into him deeper. Zayn winces- “ah, oh my god,” as if it's almost too much for him, and that alone nearly sends Liam over the edge. When Zayn comes, nearly untouched, it feels like a dream. Liam comes soon after, pulling out at the last second to finish against Zayn's quivering hole. Zayn shivers, then melts into the sweat-soaked mattress.

Liam lies there for a while, in a haze. Zayn's quiet and still, eyes closed. Once Liam starts to move to get up, Zayn reaches blindly for his hand to pull him closer. “Where’re you going?”

“Nowhere- was just wondering if you cared at all about cum drying on your skin.”

Zayn smiles and blinks his eyes open. “It's not terrible. I mean, most of it is mine, so…”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Okay, you freak. Wanna take a shower anyway?”

“We can christen my new bath,” Zayn suggests, rolling onto his side to face Liam fully. “I have one of those weird fizzy bath things that smell good.”

It doesn't fully kick in until they're in the bathtub, Liam sitting in between Zayn's thighs, back against his chest, his head gently resting on Zayn's shoulder. Zayn is kissing behind Liam's ear, arms wrapped around him tight, and they're surrounded by the sickeningly sweet scent of a cherry blossom bath bomb. They're together again. No tension, no unanswered questions. They're home. 

“Zayn, honey, I have to ask about the wall of mirrors in here.” It was jarring, to say the least, to walk into the restroom, post orgasm, and see a full body length reflection of his naked body.

“I'm a narcissist,” Zayn mumbles. “What can I say?”

Liam chuckles. “Hey, you said it, not me.”

“I've been meaning to ask you something too,” Zayn says. “Unrelated to the mirrors.”

Liam hums, trying to sink into Zayn's embrace a little more. 

“The last time we talked, like before I went to Thailand and hid from you for five months, you said something. You said something like ‘I was planning our wedding in my head.’-”

Liam's heart practically jumps into his throat. “Zayn-,”

“Shh, let me finish… so, you said that and In the context of our conversation, it was really shitty to hear. But, it also made me realize that you were, at one point, thinking about marriage-,”

“ _ Zayn _ .” Liam starts to turn around but Zayn holds him still.

“Shh, just hear me out, alright? I thought about that everyday, and I thought I fucked up and missed my chance. But, now we're here... and, like, I don't know...if you still want to marry me, then I wanted you to know that I'm into that idea, or whatever.” Zayn takes a deep breath, Liam feels it against his back. “You don't have to say anything if you don't want. I just wanted to put it out there..so, like, yeah.”

Liam chews his lip, biting at his grin. He cranes his neck to look up at Zayn. “Did you just propose to me?”

Zayn shrugs. “Maybe?”

They kiss then, which Liam is thankful for- is eases his nerves a little, slows down his thoughts just enough for him to focus on the moment. Zayn must sense Liam’s shift in mood, because he slides his hand into Liam’s lap and starts to stroke him off. It’s a welcome change of subject, so Liam drops his head back against Zayn’s shoulders and shuts his eyes. Liam loses himself in the feeling, lets the waves of arousal take him out of his head. 

“Let me take care of you,” Zayn says, and just seconds later Liam is on his knees, gripping the edge of the tub and Zayn’s eating him out. Liam can probably come just from the feel of Zayn’s rough beard on his wet skin, but he holds off, knowing that there’s more to Zayn’s plans. 

“What can we use?” Zayn asks, rubbing his cock against Liam's arse.

Liam breaks for just a moment, laughter in his voice as he says, “Babe I'm too old to be using random shit for lube. And you are too.” 

Zayn only grumbles a little as he leaves the room in search for lube. Liam gets out of the bath, lying some towels out on the floor before settling on top of them. If he wasn’t fully hard before, he is now, his cock straining up against his navel. 

“Wanna ride you,” Liam decides, the second Zayn rounds the corner. 

Zayn grins, sets the lube down on the counter and beckons Liam over. “Come here for a second.” Liam moves to get up, but Zayn stops him. 

“No. On your knees,” Zayn specifies. He bites his lip, then adds on, “please.” 

Liam’s cock twitches and crawls over, watching Zayn’s eyes darken at the sight. He sits back on his heels, waiting obediently for Zayn’s next words. Deciding to forgo words altogether, Zayn grabs a fistfull of Liam’s hair and guides his cock into Liam’s waiting mouth. Liam chokes- it’s been a  _ really _ long time since he’s had a cock in his mouth- and Zayn relents a bit. 

“Okay?”

“Mhmm.” Liam can see his reflection out of the corner of his eye, his cheek bulging with the head of Zayn’s cock. The sight drives him a bit wild, fueling his desire. He grabs hold of his own cock as Zayn fucks into his mouth. Zayn’s just on the right side of being too rough, his cock hitting the back of Liam’s throat and his nails scratching at Liam’s scalp as he tugs at his hair. The moment Liam is about to tap Zayn’s leg to urge him to ease up, Zayn stops. He lets go of Liam’s hair, drops down to his knees, and crashes their mouths together. He kisses LIam messily, all teeth and tongue, and pulls away with spit-slick lips and dark eyes. To put it simply, Liam is stunned. 

“Gonna ride me, baby?” Zayn mumbles into Liam’s mouth. 

Liam nods, snapping out of his haze and scrambles up to get the lube from the counter. Zayn settles his back against the mirror, stroking his cock. “Saved a seat for you, baby,” Zayn grins, a little wicked and unfairly sexy. 

“You keep calling me that and I’ll marry you tomorrow, probably,” Liam chuckles, only half serious as he settles over Zayn’s lap. Zayn’s responds with a chaste kiss and takes the bottle of lube from Liam’s hand.

Together they work Liam open, slow and steady, making him whine and moan just enough to let Zayn know he’s ready. Liam can’t help but watch himself in the mirror, his face inches away from the glass. It makes his cheeks even more flushed, half embarrassment and half arousal. He watches the sweat drip from his hairline and down his nose, his teeth scraping his kiss-swollen lips, and his white-knuckled grip on Zayn’s shoulder. The moan that escapes him fogs up the mirror, and he drops his head to sink his teeth into Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn hisses gives Liam’s ass a squeeze that will definitely leave a bruise. Liam sucks and licks at the bite mark, steadily rising and falling into Zayn’s lap. He revels in the small sounds Zayn makes, the sighs and moans, the hitches in his breath. Liam leans back, bracing both hands on the floor behind him, and rolls his hips against Zayn’s. He watches Zayn’s dark gaze crawl up his body, and the look of awe on his face makes Liam quite proud. 

Before Liam can process what’s happening, he’s on his back on the hard tile floor. Zayn hikes Liam’s knees up and rocks into him with so much force that it knocks the air out of his lungs. “That was unfair,” Zayn says, his voice low. Liam smirks, answering by taking his cock in his hand. He strokes messily, trying to keep time with Zayn’s relentless pace. All it takes for Liam to come is Zayn’s strong hand wrapped around his throat. He moans through it the best he can with Zayn squeezing at his throat, never being one to care about being too loud, and watches the cum streak over his chest. 

Zayn groans, “ _ Fuck _ ,” only faltering a little before keeping up his pace. Liam is only a little overstimulated, but In his post orgasm haze, he feels light and giggly. A wave of euphoria hits him and he fights to keep his stupid grin to a minimum. Upon seeing the puzzled look on Zayn’s face, he fails miserably. He bursts into laughter, and Zayn doesn’t stop fucking into him, which only makes him laugh more. 

Zayn’s expression cracks into a smile too, and he runs his thumb over Liam’s cheek. “What is so fucking funny?” 

Liam shakes his head, biting back his laughter. This, of course, makes Zayn laugh too. 

“I don’t understand-,” Zayn grunts, hiking Liam’s leg up higher, “why you’re laughing when my dick’s inside of you.” Zayn stops and for a moment, they just stare at each other. The silence lasts for a few seconds, before they both burst into laughter. 

“I’m just- I’m really happy,” Liam pants. “That’s all.” 

Zayn leans down to kiss Liam through their giggles. “I love you so much,” he says against Liam’s mouth, then lowers his voice and says, “Not even gonna lie, my knees fucking hurt.” He sits up and crawls to Liam’s side. He lies down and motions for Liam to get on top. Liam does, but not before giving Zayn shit first.

“Bad knees?” Liam teases, unable to hold back his laughter. “Didn’t know I was with an old man.”

Zayn laughs too, sliding his hands up Liam’s thighs. “Shut up.”

At this point, Liam’s face hurts from smiling so hard. “Maybe you should work out.”

“Literally, shut up,” Zayn responds, through his laughter. 

And because Liam is on a roll, he says, “Your cardio is shit.”

Zayn frowns, which triggers another laughing fit in Liam, because he looks truly upset. With a mix of offense and childlike indignance, he says. “It’s not my fault you’re insatiable.” 

Liam challenges this as he sinks down onto Zayn’s cock. “ _I’m_ insatiable?” He rolls his hips slow, riding Zayn at the most leisurely pace he can manage. 

Zayn bites down on his lower lip, dropping his head back against the floor. “Ah, shit.” 

“I thought so,” Liam responds. He grinds a little harder, just a little faster, giving Zayn what he wants. 

“Gonna come, baby,” Zayn warns breathlessly. Liam lifts his hips enough for Zayn to pull out and within seconds, Zayn is coming, closing his eyes tight and gripping his twitching cock. “Holy hell,” he’s saying, as he strokes himself through his orgasm. 

Liam grabs a towel from the counter and clean them up enough to cuddle. Zayn goes quiet, kissing along Liam’s jawline. Liam hums, moving into the touch. He’s snaking his arm around Zayn’s waist when he finds his eyes are too heavy to hold open. 

That’s how they fall asleep, naked, sweaty and tangled up in each other. And Liam wouldn’t have it any other way. 

 

~---~

Liam had a feeling that Harry and Louis would have one of the most extravagant celebrity weddings he’s ever seen. When he and Zayn got the invitation in the mail, Zayn took one look at it and said, “Honestly, I wouldn’t expect anything less from those two.” 

So, that’s how he and Zayn ended up at an exclusive, ridiculously expensive wedding venue in Greece, getting ready to be two of approximately 400 wedding guests. Coincidentally, it also serves as Liam and Zayn’s first public appearance as a reunited couple. Liam was afraid that it would draw too much attention, but there are so many people around, including A-list celebrities much more important than them, that it doesn’t matter. 

As they walk across the lush green lawn to their reserved seats, they notice some semi-surprised looks, some smiles in their direction, and some hushed whispers. Zayn’s hand finds the small of Liam’s back, sensing his discomfort. “It’s fine,” he mumbles as they sit. 

They decided months ago that they would just let people talk. No public statements, no confirming or denying. They wanted to focus on each other, settling in, and getting to know each other again. Granted, it didn’t take long, but it was nice to smother each other with love and undivided attention for weeks without interruption. They decided they need all the privacy they can get, a welcome change from their over publicized past. 

“Hey, look who it is!” 

Liam looks to his left and it’s none other than Niall sitting two seats away. “Oh. Hey.”

“Reckon she won’t mind if we switch seats.” Niall slides over so he’s sitting next to Liam, and slaps him on the back. “Didn’t know if you two would make it.”

“I didn’t think so either,” Liam admits. 

Zayn leans over to speak directly to Niall. “We almost didn’t. This one kept talking about how ‘weird’ it would be.”

“Well, is it not weird?” Liam asks. When he’s met with silence, he can’t quite believe it. “Really?”

“You’re going to have to get over the fact that Harry wants to be your friend,” Niall says, patting Liam’s knee. 

A brunette woman interrupts their conversation, taking a seat on the other side of Niall. “Sorry. The line to the ladies room was super long.” She gives Zayn and Liam and friendly smile and settles into her seat, cuddling into Niall’s side. 

As the ceremony begins, Niall bets actually money that Harry will cry during the vows. “He’s a crybaby. The man can’t help it.”

The ceremony is beautiful. More traditional that Liam guessed it would be, with both Harry and Louis wearing simple black suits. Harry, of course, has a bright pink pocket square and matching tie, but it’s traditional nonetheless. But, despite Niall being so positive of Harry’s impending tears, it’s Louis who cries. 

He tears up during his vows, his hands shaking. “It’s easy to love you. Even when everything was shit. Through everything, all I wanted was you. I pretended like it was a hard decision to want to work things out, but it wasn’t. It never was. I love you so much Harry. That’s all that ever mattered to me in the end...”

As Louis speaks, Zayn reaches over and takes Liam’s hand, squeezing gently. When Liam looks over, Zayn is already looking at him. He’s wearing a small smile, more comfortable and easy than Liam has ever seen him before. Zayn brushes his thumb over the new ring on Liam’s finger, his smile growing. Liam catches him looking at it all the time, as if he can’t believe that Liam said yes. 

“I love you,” Liam mouths silently. Zayn beams at him, eyes bright and a little glassy. He lifts Liam’s hand to his lips and places a kiss on his knuckles. 

Sometimes, love is fierce. Sometimes it’s rough and unforgiving and downright scary.  But, at the end of the day, Liam will always choose love. Liam will always, always, always choose Zayn. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> playlist:  
> Coffee by Miguel  
> Into You by Tamina  
> I’m Into You by Chet Faker  
> The Valley by Miguel*  
> My All by Mariah Carey  
> Nobody Knows - The Tony Rich Project  
> Nothing Compares 2 U by Prince  
> Kissing you by Des'ree  
> Ex Factor by Lauryn Hill  
> Have You Ever by Brandy  
> Crazy He Calls Me by Billie Holiday*  
> Love on the Brain by Rihanna


End file.
